Nearly a month, and the best I have for you is a story about vomit

Is it physically possible to vomit on your own rear-end?

Thanks to pregnancy, I have answered this question, and while it seems as if it would be anatomically impossible, the answer is "yes." And this may be unnecessary, but I'll warn you that this post gets a bit TMI.

A few Friday mornings ago I woke up late because my husband's alarm didn't go off. We were supposed to make the five-hour drive to the campsite. Immediately upon waking I can smell that my dog has a yeast infection in his ear (he sleeps in our bedroom). It's too early to run to work to get that taken care of before we leave, so I gag and get up to get ready.

We get packed, get in the car, and drive to Tim Horton's. We have to drive with the windows down because Kevin (the dog) smells so badly. It's freezing. I eat a big greasy breakfast sandwich, and immediately vomit it up. As in, it looked as if I didn't even chew my food. Not even minimally digested. At such short notice all I had to grab in the car was a paper bag, which, under the duress of my ginormous amount of vomit, leaked all over the seat, and slid down the leg of my shorts. Three minutes of my husband screaming, "throw it out of the car!" finally registers and I chuck it out the door.

Ugh, worst morning ever. But of course, as I photo-document every ridiculous thing, I have proof of the impossible! This is after shame-facedly running through a local grocery store to get to their bathroom to clean up my butt at five a.m.

 Camping was nice.  I always go on these little trips with big plans to photo-document everything.  Then I come up home with maybe five pictures, most of which are of my dog. 

Oh, and my husband.