Evil Funnel Cakes

I'm sorry I've been missing in action. I've had a umm, hectic week to say the least, but things are falling into place and getting better. And summer has finally hit in Chicago. We went from shivering in 50 degree weather at our kids' baseball games, to sweating in 89 degrees with 4000% humidity overnight. We've had so much rain that I spent yesterday searching for the schematics to build an ark that I printed out last year when my town flooded.

Two days ago, at Savannah's softball game, the little kids were lying on the ground coloring with markers. Clay got bored coloring and stacked 3 markers together in a kind of makeshift light saber. Because playing with weapons is always a good idea. Anyway, this looked like fun to Brooklyn who did the same thing. Except she decided she wanted ALL of the markers so she ran around, chasing Clayton, screaming and whining that she wanted his markers too. Right on cue, Clay took off teasing and taunting her just to make her scream a little louder because not everyone within a 15 mile radius could hear her.

Meanwhile, I was trying to videotape Savannah pitching so I didn't immediately intervene. As the inning ended and I started walking toward Brooklyn, the umpire (a teenage girl with an attitude) said, to no one in particular, "Someone better give that brat what she wants!" Little did she know I was the mother of said "brat". I looked at her and said, "Actually, no, I'm not going to give in to her demands." The ump muttered, "I'm sorry."

Then I walked over to Brooklyn and told her to scream a little louder.

After the game, I took the kids to a nearby festival for a couple hours. The kids went on a couple rides and I listened to the band with my friend Doreen for a little bit. When we left, I ordered a couple funnel cakes, brought them home, and used them to bribe the kids to shower and get ready for bed. I even Twittered about this. I believe I said something like, "Mmmm funnel cakes! I could live on funnel cakes!"

At 5:00AM, I woke up, sick to my stomach. Now, you have to know that I hate, hate, hate to throw up. I mean, I'm sure no one really LIKES to vomit, but I absolutely detest it! My friend Sue and I have talked about this. Whereas most people would get to a point of such pain and discomfort, they would welcome the relief that comes with vomiting, we would do anything and everything in our power to avoid it. I'd rather lie, writhing in pain all night then to give up and throw up. I'd rather have diarrhea every day for the rest of my life than to vomit even once. I pray profusely whenever I get that stomachache that tells me its contents are about to be evacuated. "Please God, I beg of you, keep me from throwing up! Pleeeeeaaaaassssseeee! I'll do anything! I'll move to Africa and be a missionary. I'll give up funnel cakes forever! I'll stop yelling at my kids! Just say the word, God!"

As my stomach continued to feel worse and worse, I began to think that God wasn't listening to me. And really, what was He thinking when He designed humans with the ability to put their digestive systems in reverse anyway? What an awful, horrible way to get rid of the contents of our stomachs! In fact, the whole digestive process is pretty gross when you think about it. Before I got too far into my analysis of human digestion and how I'm sure I could've done a better job than God at designing people, I got that uncontrollable urge and ran to the bathroom. After emptying everything from my mouth down to my toes, I hopped in the shower to cry like a baby cool off and feel better. But no, oh no, my stomach wasn't done rebelling yet. I continued to throw up in the shower. (Yes, yes, I do need to share the graphic details with you.)

Now, here's the thing. I can't clean puke. Not mine, not my kids', no one's. I can't do it. Not, "I don't like to do it" but "I CAN'T do it!" The mere thought of it, makes me vomit. So, I did what any other normal person would do. I shut the shower door, taped a sign to it saying, "Do not use", and went back to bed. It's ok. We have another shower. If anyone ever barfs in that shower, we'll just move to another house. That's my plan and I'm sticking to it.