Monday, October 7

conlin-style comfort

Like an overly sensitive girlfriend, my stomach went from fine to inconsolably upset in a matter of seconds last night.  I was saying the usual goodnight this and that until, suddenly, I was trying simply not to die.  It was a swooping pain that promised nothing good in my future.  I turned to Conlin, "Well...goodnight.  I'm going to sit by the toilet."

Groaning in typical melodramatic fashion, I slid onto the cold tile and prepared for the worst.  [My situation was not bettered by the realization that our bathroom is offensively dirty.  Dust and mystery stains do little to sooth the ill.]

I heard Conlin get out of bet and pad down the hall.  A few minutes passed and he had yet made his appearance.  Thinking that odd, I craned my neck about.  And that's when I spotted him-- a small corner of our mirror unsheathed his hiding place around the bathroom corner.  Discovered, Conlin let out a laugh, walked in, and commenced patting my head.  "How you feelin', gurl?"

My response was reasoned, something about my stomach trying to murder me from within for no damn reason.

Conlin asked whether I wanted to throw up.  I responded in the affirmative, as I assumed relief would follow.  Conlin: "Here.  Maybe this will help."

I ask now that you pause momentarily and consider logical services Conlin may have been about to offer.  Tums?  A massage?  Water and a dramatic reading from my favorite book, perhaps?

Why, none of the above.  The answer?  Vomit noises.  He grabbed a toothbrush, sporadically jabbed it down his throat, and made chill-inducing puke sounds.  For a solid two minutes without reprieve.  

And, people-- it almost worked.  Almost, in that it did make me more nauseous, but it didn't make me vomit.  So, well, okay.  I guess that makes it actually rather hellish [it's a simple formula, really.  Increased Nausea + No Relief = Torture].  But I didn't completely hate it.  Because husbands who are willing to make grotesque vomit noises to sooth/horrify their wives are [probably] in short supply, and aren't I lucky I caught one?

I think so.
[Also, the look on his face during this whole exchange was just a beautifully odd thing to behold.  And beautifully odd things make me feel lucky.]

So, thanks for the unorthodox comfort Mr. Conlin.  I only hope I can repay it sometime in the future.



  1. That is the grossest and most romantic thing I've ever heard. You two are living the dream.

  2. Hahah this is my favorite.

  3. hahaha I love this, and the two of you. with my whole heart.

  4. I found your blog a few days ago & basically just spent the last two days going through your archives. A part of me thinks that's creepy. But I have to tell you that your blog is the funniest blog I've ever read. & I read a LOT of blogs. So keep writing! You're a fabulous writer.
    -Emma Brown
    P.S. The "buh-oo-buh" post? I laughed so hard I cried.