I blamed the bellyache on too much food.
I went home and made a fluffernutter sandwich thinking that I needed to try the original to truly appriciate the knock off.
I didn't really like it. Or rather, I was quite unimpressed.
I blamed the bellyache on too much food. And took a couple of tums.
Then I woke up at 3 am with a face that looked a lot like this:
I was pretty sure at that point it wasn't too much food. I was pretty sure, actually, that things were going to get messy.
They didn't, although I sat by the toilet for while (Thank goodness I had completed my swish and swipe that morning!!) . I talked to myself about calling my wife to take me to the hospital. Or calling an ambulance (idea was quickly abandoned on account of the cost). I thought about driving myself there but realized that I could barely move. Driving was not smart. If the pain got any worse, I was going to think about passing out.
I remembered that when Bossman had ulcers, he drank a lot of milk. I poured a little and took a sip. Nothing happened. I leaned over the toilet and hoped I could throw up whatever was making my belly unhappy. Nothing happened.
I remembered that I had tums. I ate three, waited a bit, and stumbled back to bed. I figured that if I could get some sleep, I would be able to go to the Dr in the morning. Or, I should say, when the sun was up.
Suddenly, the tums worked.
I'm not sure what happened, but the only thing I ate yesterday that I don't eat regularly was marshmallow fluff. I'm not sure if that stuff can go bad but it had been in my cabinet for awhile. It appears that I poisoned myself good this time. I'll be tossing the rest of the ice cream when I get home tonight. I don't want to poison anyone else. Dangit, I was going to try it with chocolate sauce next.
Tums make me thirsty. I'll take the thirst over pain any day.