...an old email - I changed the Names to I.N.I.T.I.A.L.S.

From: G.H.
To: M.F, C.J., J.F., M.A., B.W., J.M.
Date: Feb 23 2001 - 10:36am

In the grand tradition of my disturbing but true stories: Oh Man, this morning was BAD. Terra got away from A. and was gone for a few hours. When she came back she was covered with crap and stunk like crazy. She proceeded to go upstairs and then vomit what looked like a mixture of burnt hamburger, cat poop, and oatmeal. My stomach is getting kind of churny just thinking about it. It gets worse now. In order to clean this stuff up, I had to grab some bread bag and a metal serving spoon and scoop the mess into the bag. It stunk so bad and looked like someone threw up and then took a crap in the mess. The foaming saliva formed these long strands as I was spooning it into the bag and then I JUST LOST IT. I started to vomit myself. I am not talking about a regular "I can taste the bile in my throat" type of vomiting. I am talking about nearly violent projectile vomiting. I did not make it to the toilet in time, so I now had even MORE to clean up. Also, I had just finished my breakfast of eggs, so it was a real mess. I went back to cleaning up the mess and started to vomit again, this time I was smart and vomited into the same bread bag that I was scooping Terra's vomit into, so I guess the worst of our essences are now mixed. Eventually, I was able to clean up her mess and MY mess and get it downstairs. The bread bag was tossed into the center of my front lawn, not without one splat hitting the corner of the front porch. Then I went to go clean up THE SPOON. I had no idea how to get the bulk of the mess off of it, so I stuck it into the toilet to swish most of it off. And then, you guessed it, I lost it all over again. Luckily, this time I was next to the toilet so I did not make a mess again. Eventually I got that spoon cleaned off for a future table setting. (I think it was the same spoon that we served Cherry Cobbler to M.A. last week.) In all, I must have vomited at least four times, but I think it felt like five. I am still feeling a little woozy. After nearly 10 years of kids, and four years of dogs, I have no idea what happened to me. I used to think I had a strong stomach.

Incidentally, I am overhearing a student talking to T.G. about the possibility of the Missouri Academy of Science meeting interfering with his viewing of the show "Survivor." It actually seemed like a genuine concern to him. I think that is going to make me puke.

--gh