…….comes the dust cart. I know that feeling well today.
Yesterday, Dr J, Miss J and I took our dearest friends for lunch at The Arts School in Liverpool; our favourite restaurant. It never disappoints and we left with full tummies and full hearts. We called in at my parents on the way home to raise a glass – another lovely few moments – and then home for some more food and the odd glass of wine. It was a thoroughly fantastic day. I rewarded myself with the most concise of blogs – a semi-day off – and went to bed feeling that all was good with the world.
I hadn’t realised at that point that bad news was already in the post. I had sealed my fate. I had made a fatal error. Forgetting two previous experiences with unpasteurized cheese, I tucked into some bread, meats and delicious Roquefort. It didn’t feel so delicious when I woke this morning to unpleasantness from both ends and a ugliness of feeling that has lasted all day. I was lucky though (!) as I had the perfect accompaniment to being sick this afternoon – with a four year old’s birthday party to attend. To add insult to injury, Miss J, who appears to have fought off a cough and sniffle has seen it return with super strength this afternoon and has herself provided us with some unwelcome arrivals after dinner. We are braced now for an interrupted night.
This is the lot of parents – and the lot of idiots who forget not to eat stuff that makes them sick. I am trying to stay positive and remember that despite today’s setbacks we had a grand old day yesterday. That is only however taking me so far. I can still taste and smell the memory of earlier (yuk) and if I hoped the Red Sox would cheer me up I was wrong; we already trail 3-0 in the first. The dust cart hasn’t just arrived after the show, it has covered me with its contents.