Tis the season

For about 5 years in a row I found myself worshipping at the foot of the ceramic throne on Christmas eve. Between eating pounds of candy and the excruciating anticipation of Santa's arrival I worked myself up to a frenzy than my poor little tummy could not contain. So, instead of being gently tucked into my bed and gracefully falling asleep I would pass out in the bathroom and be carried to bed. A lovely image for you all on this Monday morning, I'm sure.

As a result, being sick over Christmas has garnered the status of a yearly tradition. However, this year it wasn't me who was sick.

As soon as we got to Utah the ear doctor started feeling horrible. After writhing in pain for two days, we bundled him up and made our yearly trip to the emergency room. Yes, we were the out of towners spending December 23rd in a "room" corded off by a shower curtain. Owning to the fact that everyone and their mother decided that the year was running out and deductibles had already been paid, the hospital was a mad house. After waiting for 3 hours the nurse shot my poor suffering husband with pain medicine in the rump and sent us away with a prescription for pain meds.

So, if you happened to be wandering around the Riteaide by Macey's in Provo at 2 am on December 24th you probably saw my haggard, stressed out body on autopilot waiting 45 minutes for a pharmacist to count out 30 pills for my husband.

Once we had the requisite ER trip taken care of we were at liberty to experience the rest of my family's traditions. We ate, shopped, played the Wii and went to movies. Here's a little tip: Don't go see Marley and Me if you just got a puppy. Just a bad, bad idea. That is, unless you like to have a soul-shaking emotional experience in public. Then, by all means go for it.

Because it really wouldn't be Christmas without some kind of embarrassing bodily mishap.