As funny and brainless as Saturday was, its effects on my digestive system were far, far worse than those on my children's nervous systems. How, you ask? Let me tell you how it works.
Step 1: Purchase something called 'boudin balls' to eat for a fattening, fried snack someday.
Step 2: Agree to let your spouse fry them.
Step 3: Eyeball the deep fryer your spouse unearths from the bowels of your kitchen cabinets and question its use after such a long, long time (because the last time YOU remember using it was at least two years ago, though your spouse is adamant that he's used it more recently).
Step 4: Trust your spouse when he assures you that the oil is still good.
Step 5: Eat the fried snack.
Step 6: Spend the next 36 hours debating the merits of never eating fried food (or ANY food) ever, ever, EVER again.
That's it, really. It was horrible. The worst part wasn't even the indigestion (though that was awful) or the fact that Oz's metabolism is about 24 hours faster than mine (though that was annoying). No, the worst part was that I couldn't sleep because of it all.
At about 3:15 a.m., I was finally starting to doze off. I could feel my brain starting to turn to mush. I could sense the lack of coherence in my thoughts. And just as I really started to let go...
You cat owners will know the sound... HACK-a, HACK-a, HACK-a... SQUUUUCK.
Sure enough, Hermes had hurled. It wouldn't have been so bad if he had done it on the wood floor, but nope, he had to do it on the whole 5 square feet of rug located in the room. So I sighed and went to go find the paper towels and the carpet cleaner and discovered the source of the problem. A mouse... well, MOST of a mouse... located in the doorway between the hall and the living room.
I passed a peacefully snoring Oz several times as I stumbled back and forth from the kitchen to the bedroom to get everything cleaned up, and it took a good amount of self-control not to leave the mouse on him. What stopped me was the realization that if he rolled over on it, then it would have been squished into the couch, and that would have been way, WAY worse than finding it on the floor.
About 4:30, I finally got to sleep. Woke up at 5:30, went out, and rolled Oz onto his side so his snoring would stop shaking the entire house. Got back to sleep around 6. Ignored the world till 10.
When I got finally got up, I had it in my head that I had a peaceful day ahead of me in which to recover.
At 12:48 p.m., I looked at my phone and suddenly thought, "SWIM MEET!!!!"
M1 and I were supposed to be there at 1:15. The swim school is clear across town from us. We may or may not have sped the entire way there. But we made it. And I was so glad I had remembered.
M1 did beautifully in both his events.
Suddenly, all my stomach troubles didn't seem to matter one bit any more. It was definitely a blast to sit on the sidelines and watch my son compete. The adrenaline was insane for both of us. He was so excited that he didn't come last (fourth) and didn't care one bit that he didn't get first in both events, which was so noble and so sweet that it almost made me cry. He was thrilled to bring home these ribbons and wants to get a pinboard to hang them on!
All in all, it's been an interesting weekend. The best was definitely the last, and I can't wait till I can get to the craft store.
I definitely won't be eating boudin balls again, though.