...of a perfectly good weekend. This past weekend was supposed to be SO FUN! We were going to a party hosted by our friends R & R featuring gin-themed cocktails and then we were supposed to have our anniversary dinner at Woodlot (our second attempt), and instead, shortly after leaving Costco on Saturday afternoon after a dim sum lunch with my mum and grandma and CHova, the Big Yam started on a puke-a-thon. Like, stomach-emptying, partially-digested chunks of char siu bao and blueberries barf-o-matic. Like, all over the clips of the car seat vomitorium. So. Gross.
The grossness aside, the Boobla couldn't have been more of a sweetheart. He was so unbothered by it. One minute he'd be laughing, then he'd barf, and then he'd get tired and fall asleep in a pool of his own vomit (this was when we packed up the car and headed home and he barfed on the DVP). Seriously kid? Why are you the gentlest little soul around? Then mid-way through Saturday night, the Dotytron, who'd been feeling off but had chalked it down to feeling bad for the Big Yam, started his own journey down the barf-brick road. Then I started feeling woozy on Sunday morning. It was THE WORST. Ugh. I'd just been bragging about how I never get the flu and I felt awful. Thankfully, my immune system is pretty freakishly strong and I didn't get the barfs or the scoots. But I was so tired and cranky and miserable and feeling like my whole body ached and that my skin hurt - it was like coming down off particularly bad LSD (not that I know anything about that.) By that point, the Boobla had gotten over his bout of illness and so imagine feeling so uncomfortable in your skin and then having to deal with a happy baby on what turned out to be a gorgeous late-fall day and being cooped up in the house begging your equally sick partner to please feed you saltines because your arm hurts too much to lift a cracker towards your mouth. THE WORST!
The only good thing to come out of it was this photo of a particularly sweet moment:
It's like the Big Yam knew exactly what his Baba needed. He usually NEVER sleeps on us. His new heartbreaking thing when he wakes up from sleep is to sit straight up in a corner of the crib in his dark little room, crying and staring at his balled up fists in his lap. It's heart wrenching. So he woke up from his nap and was doing that thing but when the Dotytron picked him up he just snuggled in and went back to sleep. Durrrrr...so freakin' cute and sweet.
The weekend had started off really promisingly. Settlers of Cattan with Dr. Rei and Hanbo was hilarious (but cut throat) fun. My sunchoke-celery soup turned out delicious - especially topped with roasted garlic oil croutons. I loves me some croutons in soup.
Our banh mi was spectacular. Look at that thing. That is a TWO DOLLAR sandwich. How is that possible? That's an MBA thesis, right there. It's like a foot-long crusty-but-soft French loaf, stuffed with a smearing of salted butter, a smear of pate, some roasted pork, some ham-type stuff, pickled daikon and carrot, a cucumber, and sliced chilies and cilantro, if you so please (I do not). It's crazy town!
I also made us my cardamom-spiked pineapple upside down cake, which I make at least once a year.
I took today off of work to shake the rest of the sickness - last night I got some pretty bad sleep on account of the body ache and general mind-fuzz from a day spent motionless on the couch watching bad movies on TV. I can't imagine that I used to marathon TV. I can't do it anymore. I don't have it in me. I used to crave a day spent inside with blankets on the couch/bed eating snacks and considering it a failure if I didn't prepare properly and had to leave the house. I can't do it anymore. It makes me feel downright sick. Granted, that was in my early 20s, and a lot of the things I did then make me feel downright sick (see: previous post on the shady, seedy weirdos with whom I used to keep company).
Tonight we're having the roomie over for dinner. I'm making minestrone with spinach-cheese tortellini (tortellini is purchased - I'm not crazy) and we'll have it with bread and butter and maybe cheesecake brownies because I know they're the roomie's favorite. It'll be nice to get back to our regular scheduled, pretty healthy eating routine.