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You know there is something great about having, what Zela called, the “trots” every now and then. I mean not all the time, and around 3 AM – never. But in general I try to take advantage of the odd stomach flu that races thru me.
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Having visited Minnesota for Thanksgiving I am fully blaming either the Amiots or the Neppls for this week’s visit of the flu. Both my and Ed’s heads are stuffed up, bodies aching and stomachs unprepared for food to have a lasting visit. And so I say look on the bright side.
This is one of the few times you can eat whatever you want, you’re not gaining weight! And all the food in the fridge that is probably spoiled, but tasty – go ahead eat it. What could happen, you’ll get the trots? Too late! I had some particular yummy left over Chinese pork chops that would have most certainly been wasted in normal times.
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When this occurs (either here or on the road) Ed will take Imodium. I loath Imodium. I mean it works. It works too well. The minute I take Imodium - I plug up like oatmeal, dog hair and liquid pledge down the kitchen sink. And if I am traveling, well whatever I eat for the rest of the trip is sitting with me until I start home. Then, on the actual flight home, the altitude of about 38,000 feet and the familiarity of airline travel means I suddenly have to use a lavatory that is ALWAYS occuppado. No. Thank. You.
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I rather time my meals so I have a good hour before I have to go touring the city. Then on tour, I can eat anything I want –during the last 30 minutes before I go back to the hotel.
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So there you go. Happy Saturday.