I am currently not feeling too great.
I am the wimpiest person there is when it comes to throwing up. I will pace back and forth and essentially cry the whole time. A little over a month ago Pat had his first encounter with the sick Mackenzie. I woke up paced back and forth a little and cried, "Pat I'm going to throw up but I don't want to."
Now we don't know why these bouts come on. They just do without reason. It usually happens as follows: I get extremely tired at around 7ish, I fall asleep for an hour, and wake up feeling like I was sucker punched.
The same exact happened tonight as it did Christmas Eve eve. This time I was a little less babyish. I also have yet to be sick. As I am pacing the kitchen and the living room Pat goes into the pantry and gets out a sleeve of Thin Mints. He proceeds to eat them as he watches me pace back and forth while he repeats, "Better out than in". He finishes the whole sleeve as I debate what medicine to take to prevent what will probably happen anyway. As I'm consulting my mother on this issue Pat goes into the refrigerator and takes out the orange juice and asks if I drink it. I reply with a shake of my head and he then drinks it straight from the container with his chocolate covered teeth most likely leaving back wash of cookies in there.
Since then he has been trying to make me feel better after he told me I looked like I was about to fall over. One way was to look at me and say, "Here comes...the smolder" and did his best Flynn Rider impression. I almost fell off the futon laughing and although it didn't do much for my stomach it did much for my spirits.
Hopefully, tonight I can get some rest.