Monday, May 17, 2010

The gift that keeps on giving

Guess what my daughter gave me for my birthday?

That's right, she gave me that special flu that starts with EWWW and ends with GROSS!

It's the gift that keeps on giving.

As Gad as my witness, I will never ever ever ever ever ever ever eat a Whopper Junior ever ever ever ever ever again!

But a gift is a gift, and every gift teaches you something. From this gift I learned that you should never cup your hand over your mouth when running to the bathroom because, trust me, there are other exits on your face whereby a Whopper Junior can make its great escape.

Was that TMI? Because an artist pledges allegiance to truth before beauty, you know.

That's another thing I learned from this gift, that I'm a true artist. You know you're an artist when you can heave ho while your mind simultaneously describes how it feels to heave ho. If you are a painter/artist, your mind will most likely simultaneously sketch little bits of Whopper Junior splattering across canvas, just as if you are a dancer/artist your mind will most likely start choreographing those little bits waltzing enthusiastically to the Duluth Accordionaires.

Sorry, truth before beauty. That's my pledge.

A true writer/artist always pushes herself to show, rather than tell a story, even as the story is unfolding. She may be in mid-gag, but her mind is not. Her mind is making decisions about adverbs and adjectives. Should she take the easy way out and use a verb coupled with an adverb, like regurgitated heartily, or should she go with a declarative adjective like EWWWWW GROSS!!!! Or should she go the extra mile and describe the way that little flu bug winds up like a bobbin just before it sews the big dipper into her gut?

It's the million dollar question all writer/artists must face when they're bowing at the porcelain throne.

(My apologies if you're eating right now.)

Another thing I learned is that in between regurgitating heartily you realize what's most important to you.

I never realized how important banana popsicles were to me. Alls I wanted was a banana popsicle.

"Please somebody, anybody," I whispered in fetal position from the bathroom floor. "Can someone please, please, pretty please bring me a banana popsicle?"

But no one could hear me because they were all out mowing the lawn and then shooting baskets and then taking Lulu for a romp through the park.

Finally my hub burst through the door and declared, "Someone just tried to beat me up in the park!"

"That's nice, honey, can you get me a banana popsicle?"

"Isn't that freaky?" He continued.

"Banana . . ."

"Why would someone pick a fight with me?"

"Popsicle . . . "

"I wasn't doing anything to him!"

"Please . . ."

"He ordered the boys to sit and then he took the dog leash and then he pushed my chest and said . . ."


"'Come on, you swear word coward! Let's GO!' and I was like, 'What are you doing, dude???' and he was like 'Are you going to be a swear word swear word swear word coward in front of your boys? bleep bleep bleep.'"

My hub, poor thing, was obviously suffering from post traumatic stress, (he's a lubber, not a fighter) but so was I!

And doggonit, I just wanted a freakin' popsicle!!!!

Is that so wrong?

Anyways, that's what my dear, sweet daughter taught me about myself this weekend.

And anyways again, now it's up to me to pass this gift along so all the people I lub can learn important life lessons too.

Is it true that I'll have seven years of bad luck if I don't send it to ten of my closest friends within the next five minutes?

Consider yourself tagged!



Heather and Kyle said...

That does not sound fun. I am so sorry. It was good to see you on Saturday. Hope you are feeling better now.

DeNae said...

I swear, if I catch your swear word swear word flu like an internet virus, I'm totally coming to UT to beat up your husband.

You had me laughing out loud on this one, Deb. The little "banana popsicle" thing - talk about showing instead of telling!!

And I, too learned that you don't cover your mouth with your hand when un-eating something. That was how I managed to throw up on the CEILING. It's all about trajectory, y'know.

(ps..I want to know why the guy tried to fight your hub. I know, I'm a shameless voyeur. But I'm taking pills for it.)

IWA (e - va) said...

haha! You are so funny even when your sick with the bleepity bleepin flu! Thanks for not posting pics! My stomach is usually sensitive, that just the thought usually sends me hurling.. but nothing (so i considered it funny!)

Please dont tell me that it was a Poly trying to beat him up, that will make me so sad! (Or course if it was another white guy, it's totally fine with me! LOL! j/k... )

Did it at least get you out of church, or are you one of those neurotic church going over-achievers?

T said...

I hope you got your banana popsicle!

(and the very idea of a Whopper Jr escaping from other areas has sufficiently grossed me out - I should be able to stick to my diet! Expect me to be 5 pounds lighter by CBC.)

You need a bigger dog next time - one that will protect your husband on walks through the park in your apparently very freaky scary neighborhood.

The Crash Test Dummy said...

You're very welcome, T, for the dieting help. I did get my banana popsicle, and our neighborhood is not scary or freaky at all. That's why it was so scary and freaky. RANDOM! My hub told my son to call the police on his cell and the guy took off. So seeeee, that police to come in handy around here after all. I am no longer a critic. ;)

DeNae, ha ha my mom says one of my greatest skills is projectile vomiting. There was no reason for the fighting incident. Seriously WEIRD. My hub was so funny. He asked me "Do you know who it was?" I'm laid out and he thinks I might have a clue. ha ha ha

Iwa, that's funny. The first thing I asked my hub, after I asked for a banana popsicle, was "was it a polynesian?" Isn't that sad. It wasn't, it was a haole. Phew. Funny he never got threatened physically by a Poly in Hawaii, even though we got a lot of stink eye. Ironic he would feel threatened by a haole in Utah.

Becca said...

Hey! I think I'm an artist, because I got some groovy detail on when I was in unmedicated labor. But I didn't get a popsicle. Whatcha gonna do? Can't win them all.

Anonymous said...

Boo. I hate the flu. But, I think you must be an artist--I'm feeling the love just be reading about it. :)

CaJoh said...

I probably would send you a Popsicle, but it would most likely be melted by the time it got there.

Hope your feeling better soon,

Oh, and happy birthday!

Garden of Egan said...

Well I certainly hope you get better very soon cuz my mind was painting a canvas at your description....and I gotta tell you there is some chunkage in your keyboards.
Love ya anywayz!

Kazzy said...

I would have driven right up the freeway to bring you banana popsicles had I known. So sorry you were sick. :(

But to be fair, I can't believe that happened to your husband. Yikes!

Melanie J said...

People who pick fights for no reason make me want to punch someone.

April said...

Well...I have a lump in my throat. Not because your hubby was almost beaten up, but because I am a sympathetic vomiter. I don't have any banana popsicles. I won't hold my hand over my mouth, but I do have some white grape juice. That's what I drink when I have the flu or if see someone vomit. Oh boy...the lump is rising. You are far too descriptive! See ya!

Braden said...

The power of your artistry has left me almost unable to do do anything else. Wow. You are a true master of the form.

The Crash Test Dummy said...

hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee

tee hee hee hee

Sorry guys. I better hurry and post something else.

My apologies for using my gift for the bad.

hee hee hee

Look at Becca. Doesn't she look like she's saying "ewwww, gross!"

Amber Lynae said...

No blog is complete with out a post on vomiting able to fill the readers' mouths with burped up bile threatening to fry their keyboards.

I'm sorry to hear about your ill given birthday flu.

I hope you get better soon