Friday, I went grocery shopping at the local King Sooper. I'm unfamiliar with this chain, and keep wanting to call it King Scooper... I did a HUGE grocery trip... I'm talking two and a half weeks worth here... not my normal week-at-a-time jaunt. Turbo is in the carriage behaving nicely, while Bear is running around trying to eat everything in the produce section. He scored some blueberries, I bought a half eaten apple, and I may or may not have prevented him from chowing down some radishes.
About aisle 23 he looked tired and I put him in the carriage. Almost done boys, almost done...
Checkout line... almost done boys almost done... but Bear looks like he's going to pass out... awww poor wittle Bear.... I pick poor wittle Bear up and bring him round to the card swiper... when... without even so much as the 'mom I don't feel so good' I got from Turbo with the Milk Yak, I got regurgitated produce, brightly colored regurgitated produce, all over me.
They brought me a chair and a roll of paper towels to help me and the yakking child.
They swiped my card for me.
They told me it was okay (it better be, I spent more than $300 bucks there... family of five, don't go agoggle on me).
We get to the car.
We get home.
Bear EATS MORE.
Bear throws up more.
Bear lays down.
Bear is happy.
Mom gets sick.
ALL AFTERNOON.... and evening, yak yak, and later that evening... just...miiissserrraabllle...
Bear got over it in an hour.
I ate toast on Saturday.
I couldn't stand the sight of all the fresh produce on my counter. It made me want to yak more.
I couldn't make anyone food. It was nauseating.
Later in the evening I ate harmless looking breadsticks from the local pizza place.
That was it.
Sunday, I was finally able to actually eat something, by around noon.
Today, I walked instead of wogged, I wasn't up to wogging speed this morning.
I had breakfast.
I feel relatively normal.
I have no idea what made me so ill. I thought the two yak events were unrelated, but clearly, we had SOMETHING, because all three of us got sick. I don't know. I'll know for sure soon, though. Hubby McRed has about a week delay time on getting whatever is running round the house. If he starts moaning around Wednesday, we can say it's a bug.
So that's where I was... aren't you all feeling so well informed now?