Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

So there I was, minding my own business, travelling from home to work one fine Tuesday morning, and as I stood on the train (sitting not an option on account of all the other commuters in the way) I started to feel sick. Really sick. Nasty-sick.

Oh, I said cleverly to myself. You haven’t had breakfast yet, you foolish child. Here in your pocket are two clementines. Eat them when you get off at the Big Station and you will feel ever so much better.

This was a mistake on so very many levels.

I draw a veil over the following deeply unpleasant twenty minutes.

And then I went home again, pea-green in the face and unlikely to consider anything citrussy in any form ever again.

I bumped into H heading TO the Nearest-Home Station as I staggered AWAY from the Nearest-Home Station (his bosses not being nearly so funny about Being On Time and Early Starts and such other meaningless abominations), and he promptly turned round, carefully watched over me as I staggered the rest of the way home, and then cleaned both (both, people!), lavatories so I would have something nice to throw up into. And then he went to work.

By lunch-time, after some unfortunate lower-digestive-tract action and a brisk attempt at dry-heaving, I felt quite well again. And feeling quite well, so quickly, gave me furiously to think. And having thunk, I fished out the leaflet that came with my Napalm Antibiotics, and read therein the careful caution that these pills really do not agree with empty tumkins.

May, you colossal fool. Eat your bloody breakfast next time.


13 responses to “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day

  • Katie

    Yes. You are a fool.

    Are they the ones that leave the horrid taste in the mouth, too?

  • geohde

    Ah, personally I also often merrily ignore such instructions! So far I seem to have got away with it.


  • korechronicles

    Talk about kicking a girl when she’s down. But that H…well, he’s a keeper for sure. Heaving of any sort at Villa Kore is drowned out by the galloping of large feet as the male occupants make themselves very scarce indeed.

  • Hairy Farmer Family

    I need you both to come and live with us. I have Decided. It’ll be fun.

    Your wondrous self would stop my incipient slide into madness – and most likely prevent the domestic slaying I am plottng. H would show Hubby the Error Of His Ways in many respects, particularly concerning where the bloody cleaning products live.

    Citrus is generally a bad choice to quell the voms, I feel. I once chugalugged a satsuma on top of a hefty percentage of a botttle of Malibu. I had been feeling pleasantly trolleyed right up until the point the orange hit. Bleeurrgh. John carried – (literally. I was slim that christmas) me home and I fell asleep with my head resting on my Mum’s (thankfully always pristine, unlike our own) bog seat.

  • Jane G

    Cleaning the bog for you to puke in it? Which husband school did you send him to? He sounds like an absolute treasure.

  • jodie38

    I’m horrible, I’m laughing at your pain! And how very sweet of him to clean both potties for you! The sweetest gesture my hunk ‘o burnin’ love did for me when I was last sick was to pull me back up on the bed by my shirt collar after a puking round into the trash can. I’d pulled all kinds of muscles dry-heaving, you see – even one on the back of my head. He had his book in one hand (never actually looked up from it, mind you) and the back of my neck in the other. Wolves pay more attention to sick members of their pack, I tell you…..

  • May

    H now scarlet to ears with embarrassment and also head so swollen we’re lucky the bedroom has a double door.

    I have absolutely no idea why he’s so extremely nice. But he’s mine, hands off.

  • Gag Halfront

    He’s just this guy, you know…

  • Pamela Jeanne

    Whiplashed after reading the last few posts — I may be feeling a bit punky myself (sympathy nausea, perhaps?) but really wish I could do something to help take away the awfulness you’ve been feeling. There’s nothing worse than feeling like the universe if f*cking with you for sport.

  • Xbox4NappyRash

    FFS, Mammy always told you…

  • Mrs.X

    Ah, I had this very same problem but with daily vitamins. One minute I’m driving along, the next, I’m pulled over, desperately trying to find something to barf into and hitting my dry cleaning that I was taking in instead. The shirt was never the same.

    Sorry you had to experience that too.

    If it makes you feel better, I gave you an award. Check out my blog!

  • MsPrufrock

    I was on mean little anti-depressants once, and they required me to eat a full banquet in order to not throw up. One morning, in a rush to get to class, I forgot to eat. Oh, woe betide my poor self, who had to run out of a Philosophy lecture to be sick in the nearest bathroom. Not only was I just a bit vomity, I had dry heaves for the next 5 minutes. Those damn pills wanted to make sure that absolutely no shred of anything was left in my stomach.

    It got better when I went back to class feeling gross and rather weak, and my lecturer told me off for leaving. He then told me that I would be in danger of being kicked out of the class if I did that again. Obviously he thought it would be vastly preferable if I just threw up all over everyone. How fun for us all!

    I’ll shut up about me now. I’m pleased to hear this was just a temporary vomity setback. When I read your tweet I was concerned that you had flu or something equally horrible. Good to know it probably won’t happen again, as I suspect you won’t forget to eat, right?

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