We decided to break tradition and not eat meat, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy for our Sunday dinner. After all--it was Super Bowl Sunday.
The guys thought hot wings sounded good. Bean dip and chips were added to the menu and we threw in celery sticks for good measure.
What a feast we had laid out for us.
For some reason, Eli seemed about as uninterested in the Super Bowl as I was. He and I chose other activities to keep us busy instead of watching the television.
Sure made me glad I didn't eat any of those hot wings when Jeff started complaining of heartburn and Glen told us his tummy was hurting. In fact, he was in so much discomfort that he was threatening to throw up. We know he's sick when that happens.
It's only happened twice in our 33 years of marriage (by the way--Happy Anniversary to us this week!!) and it happened again on Super Bowl Sunday. Glen actually threw up. He says it was the homemade ice cream that we had for dessert. Whatever the cause, the net result was something didn't agree with him and he was throwing up all night long.
I think Glen would probably have to say it was not his most favorite Super Bowl Sunday.
3 comments:
I love that first picture knowing what dad's future had in store for him.
Sure glad I didn't eat a whole bag of hot wings.
Where's the picture of Dad dripping with sweat at the end of his hot wings binge?
Ouch! What a hot, painful meal to throw up!
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