Thanksgiving has never been my favorite holiday. A day devoted to eating turkey and giving thanks? Eh. I don't loathe it, like I do the Fourth of July or New Year's, but it's more of a shrug than a must-have. For a few years I hosted friends, but then somewhere along the line that tradition fell by the wayside. Last year we spent it in Paris, which was enchanting and I even forgot what day it was. The year before that, we spent it in a shitty restaurant in Bay Ridge fresh off visiting Spyro's terminally ill dad in the hospital. The food sucked, but not as horribly as the situation did.
This year was supposed to be spent with my family. Sadly, my intestines had other ideas. I got really sick. Like crazy pooptacular sick. Like, I don't want to be more than five feet from my toilet sick. I even made Spyro sleep on the sofa lest he block my path to the can. Hey, he's a big guy and a sound sleeper—accidents can happen.
The fevers I experienced were unlike anything I'd ever felt. One night I woke up drenched in sweat, screaming "FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF—!!" Like I couldn't get the word "fuck" out. I'd been certain that a gaggle of Muslim goblins were scratching at my door, singing some sort of deranged demon song. (They weren't.)
Spyro helpfully suggested I try his mom's home remedy which entailed swallowing a mouthful of oregano. I did not do this.
By Thursday the fever had broken and I thought I might rally. I had been warning my dad all week that I might not be able to make it, because boy, explosive diarrhea is not fun at home, but to have it at my dad's house with my two brothers bearing witness—I'd never live that shit (heh) down. Nor did I want to be caught short in a cab on the BQE.
But later that morning it became apparent that Montezuma was not yet done exacting his revenge. So I decided to stay home and eat a sad little peanut butter and jelly sandwich on whole wheat with no ill effects. Finally, something to be thankful for. Burp.
Let's hope Christmas is a happier holiday.
Oh, and that photo? Not the accommodations I have at home. That's the Rolls Royce of toilets, the Toto Washlet S300.