It’s psychological I know, and really hope that’s all it will be, but I feel really queasy at this moment. I was already not feeling well, so Michelle gave me some nausea medicine. Feeling better, I started getting hungry. When I am sick, I eat, weird I know.

Last night we had what was claimed to be Meat Loaf. That was the report I got, from my mother-in-law who had cooked it. It was falling apart horribly, so by the time you got enough to transfer from the oven dish, to your plate, it was not recognizable as meat loaf. It looked more like sad chili.  It looked horrible, but actually tasted great. This brings us to the crazy part of the night.

I didn’t feel all that well, and the hunger in my stomach was crying out for sustenance. There was some meatloaf left from last night. The mother-in-law had just made her a sandwich and remarked about how good it was. I rummaged through the fridge, locate a semi-clear Tupperware container that has what appears to be the mystery meatloaf/chili looking stuff we had last night. I decide to keep it simple, going with a meat loaf sandwich, easy on the meatloaf part. Dishing some out, I noted since it was cold, the crackers she must have used as filler were more visible now. I reheated the mass in the microwave, made my sandwich and sat back down on the couch to watch TV.

It was a really tasty sandwich and went well with the cold can of Diet Coke I was drinking. Two-thirds of the way through the sandwich, my attention was drawn to what felt like a chili bean I had just chewed. Also, this was some really spicy meat. It was one of those eureka moments, like when you realize in a split instant, that you just stepped in something. My pea brain was going, Chili Bean? Spicy? Chili Bean?, Spi–c….

HOLY-MOTHER-OF-GOD! (forgive me)
I just ate the old chili saved for the Dogs!!

 OVER a week ago, we had chili. Mother-in-law had a bowl, I had a bowl. Turns out a quarter way into it, my mouth was on fire. She was unable to eat her’s either. It was really some spicy chili! So Michelle suggested we scrape the two bowls together and place them in the fridge to keep fresh, give it to the dogs the next day. I’m not sure what grossed me out worse, the fact that I just consumed a sandwich made from chili she had been eating (shudder), or the fact it was nearly two weeks old. You guessed it, I had forgotten to give it to the dogs. It had languished in the fridge just waiting for me. There, sitting on the next shelf up, was the meatloaf, in a container I couldn’t see through.

So. I get to muddle through the night, hope the chili (for the dogs) wasn’t bad. One way or another, the mother-in-law manages to see me admitted to the hospital with food poisoning, about once or more, every two year period. I figure I’ll be pretty sick in the next few hours, unless I’m really lucky.

 

Comments always welcome,
PS: I still have enough for about three sandwiches, any takers?