This week I got a stomach flu.
Wednesday I had a temple date. We went to Zupa's, which is always tasty. I ordered grilled cheese and tomato soup. I was being so good, right? I was even being good other days--much better, food-wise, than usual. I had eaten school lunch (all healthy, Mrs. Obama), yogurt, fruit, and veggies with dinner. All the good stuff. But after dinner during a session at the temple, I could tell things weren't right.
Man, did I pray to feel better. How embarrassing would it be to rush out in the middle of an endowment session? Would everyone think that I suddenly didn't feel worthy? And what about the guy whose work I was doing? He must've been so excited when I came in. Sorry, dude.
About an hour in, I found a good time to excuse myself and rushed out. I think there's not a lot of cause for visitors to use the restrooms on the upper floors of the temple, because no one knew where they were. But I found the men's room, and just in time.
It was a bit like this.
But more orange. Needless to say, I had to bleach my whites.
After I had purged all that yummy tomato soup, I waited for my date so I could take her home, like a gentleman would. Also like a gentleman would, I made sure to stop at a storm drain for my vomit stop on the way home. "Excuse me for a minute," I said, all gentlemanly, as I got out of the car and spewed into the sewer. And like a true lady, she had tissue all ready for me when I got back in the car.
It's dates like this that can really bind a couple.
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