Uncontrollable Gagging and Incidental Laughter

Have I ever introduced you to the Husband?

This is the Husband. Doesn’t he just look so sweet and innocent? He’s not…but he’s sorta pulling it off here.

This wonderful man wanted to take me to dinner last night. Now, understand please, that we rarely get any time together anymore. His work schedule keeps him away, which has turned me slowly into the single mother again. I miss him. I miss the nights we would lie and bed and just talk.

So he offered dinner and I obviously jumped at the opportunity.

I thought, ‘Hey, let’s go get ribs.’ I mean, smothered in BBQ sauce, served with real mashed potatoes and gravy and shrimp wrapped in bacon, and half chickens and all those other wonderful choices from Adam’s Ribs.

I thought, ‘It’s gonna be a good night with the Husband.’

I got dressed, put on some nice jeans and a sexy top. I did my make-up and wore earrings.

I think my mirror was frightened. It hadn’t seen that woman in a long time.

I completely scrubbed from my mind the fact that I’m pregnant. I deleted it from memory. I purposefully choose not to think about it.

Mini Monster (of the boy variety):   Why are you all dressed up?

Me:   Cause Daddy and I are going on a date.

I suppose my children think we only kiss on date night. Right. That’s how I ended up pregnant.

Pregnant.

Early pregnant.

Still in the stages where most everything that isn’t listed on the BRATT diet makes me want to puke.

Except lasagna.

Lasagna is mana from heaven.

So, I mentioned that I scrubbed the fact I was pregnant from my mind, right? Yes. Well, we get to dinner and I order the half rack with the three little bacon wrapped shrimp all covered in Adam’s signature BBQ sauce, with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy and some broccoli. Granted, I figured over half of this was coming home with me, because they are gigantic portions and I can never eat that much. I was no prepared for this:

Do you see these pile of boxes? That’s dinner. That’s the ENTIRE dinner.

That woman, our poor waitress, set that dish of ribs in front of me and the smell immediately set my stomach to roiling.

So, being the intelligent, educated woman I am…

I ate one of the shrimp.

I wanted a freaking shrimp.

-Insert gag at the remembrance of the shrimp.-

We immediately asked for boxes since the smell made me feel so bad and my meal, along with the Husbands, were boxed up in plastic while I scarfed on dry dinner rolls to easy my stomach and the husband figured out a hefty tip for the confused waitress.

We left, and barely made it to the car, with me apologizing like crazy, when the Husband, in classic Husband nature, said:

He tipped that lady 45% of the bill. She totally earned it though.

We collapsed into fits of laughter, unable to drive, sitting in the parking lot on date night with our entire dinner in the kiddos carseat in the back, and it was wonderful.