Pick your Poison

Yes Yes I know I was the last one to post on the blog and it may appear that I am hogging space. But this story is a must... another Trentman classic.

Jared and I went out to lunch on Tuesday to get Costa Vida's (knock off version of Cafe Rio) famous pulled pork salad. Details aren't important... fast forward 6 hours. I'm at work when Jared texts me saying 'man I really don't feel good.' 3 hours later I get home from work and am not feeling too good either. That night, we had been laying in bed for about half an hour when Jared bolts out of the room and rushes the bathroom. (He was kind enough though to shut our bedroom door AND the bathroom door behind him cause he knows I get nauseous with the sound of throw up). This was the beginning of a long 24 hours of food poisoning at it's finest.

That poor toilet has gotten it's share of abuse in the last 24 hours. Jared seemed to bounce back fairly quickly, but my share of poison seemed to like me a little more than him. We slept in Wednesday morning, Jared went to his classes- I stayed home to guard the toilet (someone had to do it!). I was feeling like I might be getting better as we climbed into bed Wednesday night. Once again we had been laying in bed for about half an hour when it was my turn to make the midnight porcelain rush. Ran into the bathroom and had to make a fast decision- do we take the pants off or are we pulling our hair back? Which direction will we be projecting? I decided to go with the pants... wrong-oh! Just as I was settling into the toilet seat, my body's alarm system went off- kinda like the G.P.S. lady does when you make a wrong turn and she doesn't like it...."Recalculating...Recalculating... you idiot... turn around"

Pull the pants back up, realigned myself to be facing the toilet and then it happened... actually I don't know what happened. I was in the middle of putting the toilet seat upright when the volcano decided to erupt. And it was a mess! Since I didn't get the seat all the upright, the lovely internal-bodily- fluids erupted and bounced a muck all over the bathroom. THEN, just because it was feeling a little left out, my rear end decided to start spewing and squirting it's share of grossness. Between vomit and gasps of air I moaned, "Jared (heave... heave)... help...(heave...heave)... I just crapped my pants!" I was completely helpless. I felt like crap and vomit was flying out of me and I couldn't do a thing. Jared walked in, made sure I was okay, and after reassuring that I wasn't going to start crying, he started laughing his head off. Once I could get my mouth clear, I was laughing my head off too. How ridiculous! I'm 22 and I just vomited all over and crapped my pants.

Jared was a kind gentleman and cleaned up all my crap while I showered off. We could not stop laughing! The difference between this embarrassing story and the one I told you guys all about at the reunion in California (when I ripped a huge one in my old boyfriend's apartment with all his roommates close by...) is that I'm married now and Jared has to love me and all the crap that comes along with it.... literally. hahaha!