I've been poisoned.

Food poisoned, that is.

Ugh. It's awful.

Thankfully today, I have absolutely nothing that has to be done, other than the dreaded laundry, which may or may not see the clean side of a basket today.

Over the weekend my mom was brave enough to take me and the kidlets to Wichita with her to visit my brother.

Zach stayed home, mainly because he had to work all day Saturday. Oh, and he wasn't really invited.

It was a mom/daughter bonding experience.

Over things like, getting the kids to stop screaming in the car during the five and a half hour trip that turned into eight, and cleaning up accidents and spills and melted jolly ranchers and anything else that could have happened. It was Murphy's Law.

So anyways, we spent the weekend hanging out with Robbie and his girlfriend, Maggie, and just relaxing.

I love my brother.

And it's not fair that he lives so far away and my kids hardly get to see him.

He is the best uncle.

But.

Also.

He poisoned me.

I hope not on purpose.... But we have been known to argue.

This trip it was a lively discussion about taxing the rich. His point of view is that by taxing the rich more, our debt problems will be fixed.

I don't have time to get into why that's a bad idea, and would never work. Or why a Flat Tax and a simplified Tax Code are the real solutions to our problems.

Lets just suffice it to say, this time... I won.

But then. Later. He poisoned me.

So maybe I'm actually the loser....

Fantastic.

I need to start the story with a little history. First of all, my parents are/were the most Un-Fussy people you will ever meet.

Seriously. They are just laid back, go with the flow kind of people. And that's how they raised us.

When it comes to food, we are the same way.

I mean. Especially Robbie. He leaves all kinds of food out over night and just puts it away in the morning and says, oh, it will be fine.

My mom too, sometimes the expiration date is just a guideline and not necessarily the Law of Food-dom.

Once my aunt told me, while we were deciding if Sour Cream was still good or not even though the expiration had been dated over a month earlier, "How much more sour can Sour Cream get? I'm sure it's fine."

And since I'm totally one of those people, that if someone tells you something you believe it as truth, I agreed and follow the same loose interpretation myself.

I think "those people" are actually referred to as gullible. But that's just a side note.

In Sri Lanka I followed the pattern of Take a bite, remove a bug, take a bite, remove a bug.

Lets get to the bottom of this and understand that cleanliness does not have to be next to godliness and missionary work can totally still be done in third world hygienic standards.

And also at home.

Who wants to come to dinner now?????

Haha.

Don't worry. Because this story ends with me getting married. Getting married to the most finicky man alive when it comes to whether food is good or not.

Zach totally is opposite me when it comes to how long leftovers last, whether its ok to just cut off the moldy part of cheese and continue to use it and if mold has infiltrated the entire loaf of bread or just the first couple pieces.

He keeps me in check.

ESPECIALLY when we are having people over.

And that is why, when I was at my brothers house, I sorely needed Zach to remind me of Health Code Standards.

But Zach wasn't there. And instead of standing up for my stomach, I let the moment pass and sat by idly, realizing I would pay the price later.

And pay the price I did.

Sunday evening my mom and Robbie had decided to grill out hamburgers. Sounds delish, right?

I thought so.

Until I realized Robbie's hamburger was still in the freezer. This meant that he would have to defrost it.

Now. Robbie thinks I am bat-crazy-bananas with my whole aversion to microwaves and teflon and all of that.

Seriously, he makes fun of me all of the time.

And I'm like, dude, you're the one that got cancer at 19. Ok? Like, maybe I'm not so crazy after all, since you're also the one who microwaves good china with silver plating on a daily basis.

Whatever.

Anyways, I had hoped however, that microwaving hamburger would be the worst of my worries.

I was wrong.

I'm sitting on the couch, involved in something. I can't remember what. But next to me is sitting Maggie and Robbie.

Maggie casually asks, "Did you pull the hamburger out of the freezer to dethaw?"

And Robbie responds, "No, I forgot, but I set it out in the sun, so it should be ready in no time."

Now, if you're like me right now your ears have perked up and your probably cursing inside of your head, saying, "Um, WHAT?????"

You did what???

Oh. Yes. He totally set the frozen hamburger outside, in the sun, in 105 degree heat to dethaw.

Now. A couple things happen when meat sits out. First of all, it's not a quick process, no matter how hot it is outside. The meat was frozen to the middle. Second, the outside of the meat will heat up first into not hot enough temperatures, while the middle remains frozen, since Robbie was waiting for the middle to unfreeze the outside then becomes a cesspool of lukewarm meat, perfect for bacteria.

I should have said something. I should have turned my head on him and given him the crazy eye!

I should have just walked out of the room, into the great outdoors, grabbed the rotting meat and put it in the microwave myself.

But.

I didn't.

I sat there quietly, not wanting to act like a know-it-all and worrying that my little brother would feel like I was criticizing him all of the time.

Meanwhile.

He was bragging about how great of a hamburger he could make.

And I ate the damn thing later, to compliment him on his efforts .

And now I'm half dead and my stomach is punishing me for not opening my usually big mouth!

Ugh.

At least I made it all the way home yesterday.

And then it hit me.

Something is not right.

I've been waiting for a while to throw up again. But. So far nothing.

I'm hoping the worst of it is over....

Zach was like, "What did you eat that was funny?"

And then I told him the story of the wayward hamburger.

And then he left the room. He couldn't even look at me.

He was like, "ARE YOU CRAZY????"

I know!

I am crazy.

And next time, I will NOT keep my mouth shut. I promise you that. I'm sorry but meat should not be dethawed outside, no matter HOW hot it is.

Even my kids knew better and didn't eat any of it.

Oy.

I guess I deserved what I got. Even if the flavor was good....