Story Sent in by James:
I had been dating Ann for a solid three months when Thanksgiving rolled around. She invited me to her aunt and uncle's where a big, Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving was the norm. It was bigger each year thanks to another set of nieces, nephews, or cousins who married, gave birth, or (sometimes) both. It was going to be a large event, and I looked forward to meeting her extended family.
Ann, it should be noted, was a slight girl, shorter and smaller than I.
Unfortunately, the day before the big dinner, I came down with what was later diagnosed as gastroenteritis, also known as stomach flu. At the time, I thought it was just some bad chicken, and didn't think much of it.
The morning of Thanksgiving, my stomach felt like someone had punched it repeatedly overnight. The fever hadn't fully kicked in yet, but something was clearly wrong. Still, I felt that bowing out of dinner just because of some phantom stomach pain would've been poor form, so I popped some antacids, skipped breakfast, and went with Ann to her family's Thanksgiving.
While I was walking around at the house, following Ann as she introduced me to her relatives, I came down with the shakes. I thought, "I hope it's just nerves." It wasn't.
We sat down to dinner, and I immediately felt about a hundred times worse. Whatever it was, it was hitting hard and settling in for the long haul.
Words spoken at the table all echoed unpleasantly in my ears, and my stomach rumbled like a riot. "Just hold it together," I thought, "You can do this."
In response, my stomach made a sound like, "Blloooorrraaaagh," and then my mouth followed suit as I vomited gloppy orange puke onto the table.
There were some cries. At least two people said, "Oh, God!" and I heard the sound of chairs scraping the floor and silverware dropping against dishes. Heard, not saw, as everything became blurry soon afterward, and a set of strong hands, I'm not sure whose, ushered me to a bathroom and cleaned me up.
My eyes were squeezed shut by that point. Without a word, whoever it was who had helped me mopped my face with a damp towel, took off my own shirt, put another shirt on me, and shortly afterward half-pulled me to the guest bedroom and set me up in the bed.
In my fevered, swimming mind, my concern for my own well-being was soon forced aside for deep gratitude and affection for this person, (I guessed it was a guy due to the grip on my arms) who had snapped right to action when I was ill. He knew exactly what to do. The one thing I wanted to do before passing into sleep was to look him in the eye and thank him.
Just before I opened my eyes, a thought shot across my mind: "What if it's Ann? If it is, I've got to marry her."
I opened my eyes and blinked them a couple of times to be sure.
It was Ann, after all.
She lightly touched her fingertips to my eyelids and closed them. "Shhh," she said, "Sleep," and kissed my forehead and ran her hand through my hair.
Ten year anniversary this year.
11/24/2011
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Rockin'. I'll give thanks to that.
ReplyDeleteThat is the sweetest thing I've read in a long time.
ReplyDeleteFor the benefit of us non-US readers, can someone tell me who the hell Norman Rockwell is?
ReplyDeleteHe was a painter in the 40,50s and he did things like thanksgiving dinner,swimming at the old fishing hole,date at the malt shop,Santa claus,joining the army,the doctors office,grandma baking cookies,
DeleteSomething to give thanks for! Happy Thanksgiving everybody!
ReplyDeletehttp://www.lmgtfy.com/?q=norman+rockwell+thanksgiving
ReplyDeleteAwwwwwwwww such a sweet story! Love it.
ReplyDeleteYay! Awesome story! Not often we get a story with both a massive puke AND a happy ending!
ReplyDelete'If you blow chunks and she comes back, shes yours'
ReplyDeleteHm... my fiancée is over right now meeting all of my extended family at our Thanksgiving party. No stomach viruses, though.
ReplyDeleteAwwwwwww :)
ReplyDelete:)
ReplyDeleteAwwww
ReplyDeleteHee. Perfect story to cap off the lovely holiday I had. Thank you :)
ReplyDeleteFantastic.
ReplyDeleteI was hoping for a happy ending. =)
ReplyDeleteI think that this image seemed more appropriate than others for this story: Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving
ReplyDeleteVery sweet and romantic in a Farelly Brothers sort of way :-)
ReplyDeleteThat is so...incredibly sweet!
ReplyDeleteWhat a nice contrast to all the other stories here about weirdos and crazies...
Talk about in sickness and in health
ReplyDelete