Sickout 2

If my work week hadn't been crazy enough, my weekend decided to get into the act. My wife and I went out Saturday evening to celebrate our 13th anniversary, and she hadn't been feeling great in the afternoon. It seemed like a little thing that she could power through, and we had play tickets and a restaurant picked out. By the time I got into the restaurant from parking the car, though, she told me that she might not order anything - well, maybe some soup. I actually perused the menu for a while and got close to deciding on what to order, although the idea of me eating and my wife just sitting there at our anniversary meal seemed pretty odd.

It became clear, though, after a few minutes that she wasn't just full from lunch. She wasn't feeling well at all. When I told her I had no problem getting up and walking out of the place before ordering, she said we probably should. Coats on, apology to the waitress, out into the brisk evening. Ten steps from the restaurant, my poor wife threw up. Then we huddled by a garbage can so she could throw up a little more. Happy anniversary.

I love my wife and am so happy to be celebrating 13 years with her. It was hard to stand there not because our plans had been dashed but because I couldn't do anything for her. There was no fighting the virus, and we just had to wait it out.

Our play tickets can be changed to another night (must do that before it gets away from us), and we sent our sitter home after 45 minutes. We watched a DVD in our pajamas, and I wouldn't trade the evening for anything. I don't say that because I like canceled dates and public vomiting; I say it because I'm so grateful for the state of our relationship 13 years into marriage. We're living the life we choose with our two healthy, (mostly) happy boys.

Quite the first week of the new mode. I won't tempt fate by saying it can't get any crazier than this. I've learned enough this week to keep my mouth shut.