Taco Bell Slip and Slide

Warning: Although this post contains a nice message at the end, if your gag reflex is easily triggered, this post isn't for you.

Shortly after Hubby and I married, we moved about 8 hours from our family and had to rely solely on each other for all of our needs. Early on after this move, I was very sick with bronchitis*, but finally feeling hungry and Hubby was kind enough to fetch me dinner from T.B. We ate. He went upstairs to do some homework (for grad school) and I had a coughing fit. It wouldn't stop. My eyes felt like they were popping, my throat hurt and then there was my stomach. That Burrito Supreme and the Mexi-melt I enjoyed just an hour earlier was now deciding to leave my body. I knew I would never make it to the bathroom upstairs, so I fled to the kitchen. (I figured the sink can be cleaned and we had a disposal.) Our place was very small, but I didn't make it to the sink. I made it into the kitchen, lost it on the floor and then... wait for it... slipped and fell in the vomit. At some point Hubby heard either my sobbing, my coughing, or the loud thud and came running. And do you know what that sweet man did for me? He took me upstairs while I finished the job, asked me if I needed anything, told me to go take a shower and rest. Yup, he cleaned up the kitchen too. The wedding was great, the honeymoon sweet, but a man who will clean up something that nasty for you says true love.

*Bronchitis is my sworn enemy after being a part of my life at least once or twice a year since I was like 7. The only good thing it's ever done for me is curb my appetite, as this post has done as well.