OK, so I go to bed, hoping to get a good night’s sleep
before a busy day.  15 minutes later, I
know something is wrong.  Anxiety over who
will be the next Bachelor? No.  Troubled
over if Kayne and Kim’s son will run into trouble giving people directions? No.  Rather, I start to feel sick.  I visit WebMd on my phone to find out what’s
wrong.
- Trouble breathing
- Feeling Disey
- Tightness in chest
- Search Results: Polio
I drop to my knees in the hallway and crawl to the bathroom.  I lay my face right over the bowl and what do
I pray for?
- To get it over with? No
- To not get sick? No
- That my arms are strong enough so I don’t plunge right into the water? Yes.
I think I start to hallucinate.  Sweating, I start to wonder about random
things:
- Can I remember any of the Hanson “mmmmbop” brother’s names?
- Who were those Menudo kids?
- Will One Direction suffer the same fate?
I think I meekly call out for help, but regret doing so as
soon as I do it.  I mean, what will
happen.  My kids will wake up, walk in to
the bathroom and see their daddy lying on the tile.
- Hi Daddy, what ya doing?
- Call 911
- Daddy, draw me a picture
- Call 911
- Daddy, who would win in a fight – The Hulk or Aquaman?
- Call 91…wait what? Are you kidding me? How the heck do you think Aquaman will beat the Hulk? Call 911
- OK Daddy, Fine. How do you spell 911?
I toss and turn all night and finally my kids come see my on
the couch.
- Hi Daddy, can we have milk and waffles?
- Oh guys, Daddy doesn’t feel well.
- OK, but um daddy um, can we have Waffles now?

 
