A Super Bowl Missyism!

Ay Caramba, folks. It is only for your pure entertainment that I am telling you this story. And, you know, maybe this is one of those stories that I should keep to myself; but, this embarrassing thing happened to me in front of a bunch of people; so, it's not like I'm the only one who knows. I'm just broadcasting it to the world now! Or, to the 10 people who read this! (Lol, JK)

I love football and football parties. Our tradition, every year for the past million years, has been to set up camp at my sister-in-law's house and watch the Super Bowl. This involves the yummiest buffet of food evah, the greatest of drinks and the loudest of friends and family hoot'n and holler'n for their team's victory!

Last year, we were all very excited because my sister-in-law was making, basically a keg-sized amount of special punch. What made the punch special? Malibu Rum, of course!

My sister-in-law can never, EVER, root for the same football team as me. So, my plan is always to start the drinking as soon as I get to her house to get warmed up and to keep up with the smack talking! And, that's exactly what I did last year. As soon as I got to her house, I started drinking the punch concoction...maybe on an empty stomach...maybe wasn't the smartest thing I've ever done.

So after a few punch drinks (which were so dangerous because you could not even taste the alcohol) I decided that I needed to eat a little bit.

Well, somewhere in all of this mess, my stomach decided that it did not like what I was doing.

It was minutes before kick-off. Minutes before the game that I look forward to all year long. The battle of what is supposed to be between 2 of the best football teams of the season. I love kick-off; the anticipation, the excitement, I get goose-bumps and butterflies! I love to see the National Anthem being sung and watch the players run out of the tunnel, all excited. In my head, I feel bad for the team I'm rooting against, for they are so unjustly excited as they will probably lose the game, tsk, tsk, tsk.

It was at this time, the commercial break before the National Anthem, that I could not ignore the pains in my stomach any longer. Disgruntled, I made my way to the bathroom. Things went down-hill fast from there. I became very, very warm, hot, clammy, sweaty. Waves of nausea rolled through me like the waves of a stormy sea. I couldn't ignore it any longer; but, I didn't know what to do! I'm sure you've been there- trying to use the restroom at the same time food wants to repeat itself on you- not a pleasant situation to be in. I thought that I could throw-up in the bath-tub in front of me if need be. I hoped against hope that need wouldn't be! I "courtesy flushed" the toilet in preparation of my food repeating itself on me. And, then, to my utter and complete HORROR, I felt water on my bum. One should not feel water on their bum when they've flushed the toilet.

I promptly, immediately, with out thinking, stood up and turned around to face the toilet...the toilet that was over flowing...the toilet that was over flowing in SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE!
"WHY?", I screamed in my head, "WHY?"!!!!!!!!!!!!! It was as that precise second that my food and punch decided to repeat itself on me...right into the over flowing toilet...in someone else's house.

*pause*

Mortification does not even begin to explain 1/10 of how I was feeling. At the time that all of this was going on, I could hear everything in the living room. The smack-talking, the National Anthem, the kick-off...it was an ugly moment, folks. Me, standing in the middle of this...this...this mess... and I had no idea what to do!

So... I called Dave! Poor Dave. Poor, poor Dave. I'm just going to let you imagine the scene he saw when he opened the bathroom door and there I was... standing...a disheveled, half dressed mess.

Next thing I know, my brother-in-law and Dave are going to work, cleaning up my mess...again, MORTIFYING! It takes good, special family to do that kind of stuff with out 1 complaint or admonition. They were all trying to make me feel better. My sister-in-law fetched me a robe, walked me to her bathroom and got me a change of clothes. One of my BFF's, Paula, came in to check on me. This time, in my sister-in-law's bathroom, I did a million courtesy flushes! If air so much as came out of me, I courtesy flushed! Then, I made the walk of shame out to the living room and curled up in a corner on the couch.

When Dave and John (my brother-in-law) were all done cleaning up my mess and returned to the living room Dave asked, "What did you eat that had corn in it?" I know, GROSS! I'm sorry. But, that was the comic relief I needed to get over the mortification and enjoy the rest of the game.

You gotta be able to laugh at stuff like that afterwards because, so far, I certainly have not found any holes that are big enough for me to crawl in and hide. And, sorry for telling you a gross story; but, it's a Missyism for sure!

Pray for me that nothing like that happens this year...that will save you from any more gross stories like this! I have a different plan of attack for this year, too. My plan: take it sloooooowly!