The Man and I went out for dinner before I drove him to the airport. His only request was that we select something not potentially upsetting, because who wants to deal with intestinal problems on a plane.
I scoffed internally a bit. Is his stomach really that sensitive?
But our meal was not a good one. Halfway through my plate of food, I let out a disgusted grunt. The Man agreed with my sentiment and pushed his plate away. He was, he proclaimed, "drawing the line."
But I just laughed and kept eating (I was really hungry, okay?). "I'm not getting on a plane," I bragged. "I can throw up later."
Guess who shouldn't have so jauntily tempted fate... Ugh. I hope The Man is faring better.
Revisiting the Bad Mother Manifesto
1 hour ago