cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975

July 4th, 2006. Independence Day.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

It was the best of times because I was young, I was thin, and I was about to get married to a fine piece of Spanish man meat. It was the best of times because my sister Cheeks was visiting and she was staying with me for a whole week.

It was the best of times because back then we had no family obligations to prevent us from getting drunk, playing video games, and staying up until Bad Idea o’Clock.

But it was also the worst of times, because right in the middle of my sister’s visit, a quantity of rust-colored water that I could only classify as “OH MY GOD, WHAT THE HELL?” began to pour down the walls of my apartment and Would. Not. Stop.

The water was clearly coming from the apartment of my upstairs neighbor – let’s just call him Drug McDealer – and when I bolted up the stairs to tell him “your home is leaking, and also don’t shoot me,” he did not answer my panicky knock.

In what was probably not my smartest decision, I planted my ear firmly against the door and listened. Nothing. No sounds, no movement, and thankfully no bullet blasting through the door, down my ear canal, and into my brain. Mr. McDealer was not at home, and my ear lived to hear another day.

I ran back down the stairs to my apartment and called the “emergency” maintenance service, but as with my upstairs neighbor, nobody answered. I left a message, but an unacceptable amount of time followed during which I heard not a word from them, so I called again. Still nothing. In the meantime, my bathroom, furnace room, linen closet, and hallway were becoming saturated with water that looked A LOT like piss but thankfully wasn’t.

Needless to say, my sister and I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing while the maintenance people were busy *not* classifying our situation as an emergency, so we jerry-rigged a temporary solution. Notice the water *actively* dripping into the bowls:

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
A sophisticated water containment system that you can feel free to usurp as your own.

Finally, at around 10 P.M., the “emergency” maintenance service called me back and agreed to send someone over. And boy did they. About ten minutes later, a man who could have easily played the role of Schneider in One Day at a Time showed up at the door and introduced himself to us as “Wally.”

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975

Wally came inside and investigated for about .0000001 seconds before wisely determining that the water was “coming from the upstairs apartment.” He left us and went to let himself into La Casa del McDealer. He finally came back down after about an hour and a half and told us: “Don’t worry. It looks like your neighbor went out of town and accidentally left the water running. I turned it off and the leaks should stop soon.”

I nodded, relieved. In fact, I was so happy to have the problem solved that I didn’t ask myself ANY of the following questions:

  • Does it really take an hour and a half to turn off a faucet?
  • Who leaves their water running while they’re on vacation?
  • No, really. Who does that? Like nobody, right? Unless you’re in a television sitcom or something. Am I right?

At last it was time for Wally to take his leave, and after a little while the leaks did stop, just as the goodly maintenance man had promised. Cheeks and I cleaned up the fallout as best as we could – ignoring for the moment the bubbling ceiling plaster and the dirty yellow water stains all over the walls. It was around two in the morning, after all, and we were tired. We headed bedwards.

Imagine our surprise and disgust when we woke up to find that all of the leaks had sprung up again overnight.

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
I’m sure all this water dripping into the furnace/mechanics room was totally, totally safe.

I had to go into work that day, so my sister was on “repulsive water duty” until I could get home. In the meantime, I called the property management company and told them:

  • That Wally the Maintenance Man was Full of Shit. It was clear to me now that he had discovered a real problem up there, but didn’t want to deal with it at 10 PM, and just slapped a Band-Aid on it that he thought would hold until morning. But didn’t.
  • That my apartment walls, vents, and ceiling were obviously now full of water and I didn’t trust the property management company to clean it up thoroughly enough to not cause a mold problem later.

Luckily for me there was a vacant townhouse in the complex, and after a stressful rent negotiation, it was allowed that I could move in the very next day. Unfortunately, that meant that Cheeks and I were going to have to spend yet another night in The Land of One Thousand Leaks. But we had to make the best of it, and what better way to make the best of it than a PRETEND TEA PARTY!

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
In this photo we see Cheeks partaking of the finest “Dirty Water Champagne” and a hearty bowl full of “Filthy Urine-Lookin’ Nastiness Soup.” Please note the bottle of wine, white linen napkin, and full place setting including knife and fork.
est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
Sarah sits in front of her sparkling clean furnace room door and toasts the competence of her trusty maintenance man Wally with a glass of Martini & Grossi Asti Spumante.

The next day I took off work and we spent the entire day moving my stuff in the hot hot heat of a Midwestern July. Well, let me rephrase. My husband, his brother, his father, and my best guy friend spent the entire day moving my stuff in the hot hot heat of a Midwestern July, while my sister and I fucked around doing absolutely nothing.

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
We thought this nugget of wisdom was worth preserving for all the ages.

At one point my sister and I walked from my old apartment to the new apartment carrying literally ONE HAMBURGER BUN. And funny you should ask! I *do* have pictures of it!

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975

After we were done, we were all starving, so we went to a local Greek place and ordered the best, saltiest Greek pizza that ever was. And we ate SO. MUCH. of it. Seriously. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much before or since. But it was worth it. Even though Cheeks and I literally woke up in the middle of the night needing to drink all the water that ever was:

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
I’m pretty sure olives are grown in orchards. Aren’t they grown in orchards?
est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975
Yes, Cheeks. Yes it was.

All in all, even though the Great Gross Water Disaster of Ought Six was disgusting, inconvenient, and ruinous to many of my personal possessions, it left me with a great story to tell and lots of laughs in retrospect. Including my favorite from Cheeks:

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975

I don’t know, Cheeks. Maybe I’ll ask him. After all, he did leave me his number:

est. 1975 spins a lovely yarn in "cheeks, leaks, and drug mcdealer" about when her apartment was suddenly flooded with pee-colored water. #funny #humor #leaks #water @est1975blog #est1975blog #est1975


If you haven’t already done so, consider following est. 1975 on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Pinterest! I add fresh, hilarious material every single day.


Photo credits:
“Schneider”: Television still of Pat Harrington, Jr. as Schneider in One Day at a Time.

meg sanity: when life needs more cowbell

Everybody knows that there are a ton of funny and interesting blogs all over this great wide Internet. But you know what there aren’t a ton of? Funny and interesting blogs that ALSO TEACH YOU ALL KINDS OF COOL AND AMAZING SHIT ABOUT PSYCHOLOGY.

meg sanity

Fortunately for us (and the great wide Internet), today’s guest blogger Megsanity writes a super duper psych blog which does exactly that. Seriously, if you haven’t already checked out Megsanity: Women, Psychology and Expletives, you need to. Trust.

Now please give a warm welcome to Megsanity, who’s about to wax eloquently about cowbells, dicks in boxes, and home skillets. (She’s also going to tell us why we hang on to popular phrases and cultural references from our past.)hard-returngif


I love the old Saturday Night Live skits. Not the new “trying-to-be-as-good” SNL, but the old-school height-of-fantastic SNL with Eddie Murphy, Chris Farley and sometimes Will Farrell. You know, back when SNL was still the bomb.

Because seriously, has it been funny since then? I mean, aside from one or two episodes with Justin Timberlake, like the one where he gives somebody his penis as a Christmas gift? (If you’ve never seen “Dick in a Box,” please do so immediately. Trust me on this one.)

Dick in a Box Instructions
I apologize in advance to NBC for any possible copyright infringement here, but this was too funny not to use. COME ON, PEOPLE! IT’S INSTRUCTIONS ON HOW TO PUT A DICK IN A BOX! Photo credit below.

But while I don’t often get a chance to use the phrase “dick in a box,” I do find plenty of opportunities to use other quotes from the SNL heyday. Quotes such as… “more cowbell.”

People in my life ask me why I use outdated phrases like “more cowbell” that barely make sense in today’s context. I like to think that I do it because I’m awesome, but that probably isn’t the whole reason. So when my home slice Sarah asked me to write a guest post about the phenomenon, I jumped at the chance like a dude in hammer pants straight pimpin’ at the club.

Cultural references from our childhoods have the inherent ability to make us happy. They are comforting beyond what seems to make sense. They were part of our lives before we had so many responsibilities. Put simply: words have memories. They give us feelings. They are part of a strong association network in the brain.

And my brain fucking loves cowbell.

Let’s back up a second. In case you aren’t familiar with it, the “More Cowbell” sketch features Christopher Walken as a music producer and Will Ferrell as a renegade percussionist for the rock band Blue Öyster Cult. In the skit, Walken has a fever – and “the only prescription is more cowbell.”

I saw this episode of SNL as a young, childless person, back when I stayed up later. In those days I read books, went dancing, painted, and actually managed to watch late night television. Good times.

Then I had kids. And those wriggling screaming bundles of awesome changed everything. Don’t get me wrong – kids are all that and a bag of chips, and they allowed my husband and I to use phrases like “Who’s yo daddy?” and actually mean it. But something was missing.

I figured it must be the cowbell.

We all lose a little part of ourselves when we have children. “Lose” is a bad word, perhaps. How about “misplace”? We still have all of the same hobbies, goals, and desires that we had before – but we have to put them on hold for a little bit. Our priorities become different, and these changed priorities are what cause us to forego watching Saturday Night Live in favor of snuggling a sleepy baby, stay home from work to care for an ill child, or buy braces instead of a new car. (WHY DO THEY COST SO MUCH? It sucks when the bling on the kids’ teeth costs more than your whole wardrobe.)

We all miss our versions of “more cowbell” at least sometimes, not just in the form of television, but in the form of all those little things that used to make us feel good. For example, your cowbell might be high heels and party dresses, or the simple freedom to leave home without planning and packing for an hour. Or maybe your cowbell is the ability to fit into that college sweater that you used to love so much, back before you had kids and your abdominal apron started to keep time like a fleshy metronome during your daily run.

We seek things that give us those happy feelings, the same ones we had when we first saw a favorite SNL sketch or hula-hooped our way into a camp trophy. We develop strong emotional attachments to such things because the feelings and the memories are meshed together. Beanie Babies might make us smile. Slap bracelets might make us wince. Nirvana might make us want to weep. We will always remember the feelings these things evoked. It’s why thinking about your first love still triggers strong emotions –your brain does way more than remember experiences. It remembers happiness. It remembers hormone levels. (And teenage hormones are no joke.)

When I watched the “more cowbell” skit, I found it delightful. And I still do today, because nothing dramatic has happened to change that association. It’s the same reason I will still call people “home skillet” occasionally – it’s because all my hotplate home girls of the past have left some pretty fantastic associations in that part of my brain. And I want you in on that. Because I like you.

And even though I work damn hard to make sure I always have some cowbell in my life, I sometimes need to scream, “MORE COWBELL!” Because being surrounded by things that you love matters.

And because cowbells are stupid fly. (Obviously.)



“Megsanity” is the alias of a licensed clinical therapist who has spent the majority of the last ten years working as the Clinical Director/Vice President of Clinical Operations for a JCAHO accredited mental health facility. She needed an anonymous outlet where it was acceptable to drop the F-bomb like it’s hot, so she started Megsanity. Women, psychology and expletives, a blog that strives to promote an understanding of female psychology through recent and anthropological research, girl power, expletives, sarcasm and sexual innuendo. You can also find her on Facebook.


Photo credits:
“Dick in a Box”: Television still from the December 4th, 2013 episode of Saturday Night Live, aired on NBC. Featuring The Lonely Island and Justin Timberlake. 
“More Cowbell”: Source unknown. Footage from Saturday Night Live, aired on NBC. Featuring Will Farrell.

clash of the couples

So. I’ve got a few rules on this blog, and one of them is that I don’t do cover reveals.


In that case, all bets are off. *wink*

That’s right, my loyal so-and-sos. I’ve had the super good fortune to be included in an upcoming humor anthology called Clash of the Couples: A Humorous Collection of Completely Absurd Lover’s Squabbles and Relationship Spats. It’s funny. It’s racy. It’s sexy. It’s real. And it’s got a cover you aren’t likely to forget:

Clash of the Couples cover reveal

Hot, right? That snake looks like it is doing something seriously interesting. And I mean SERIOUSLY. INTERESTING.


And guys? This book is legit. Like… LEGIT. It has its own press blurb and everything:


Coupledom. Fact or fable, Adam and Eve birthed the perpetual relationship drama as seen on TV today. Despite the serpents, this couple HAD IT MADE. Luxury real estate, lush gardens, and privacy out the yin-yang. Life was glorious until the bare-bottomed babe could no longer resist temptation. Despite her better half’s warnings and threats to sleep in a tree, she tasted the forbidden fruit. One bite of that seductive, juicy contraband and the stage was set for eternity— a nibble that has blossomed into an endless supply of tiny tidbits that divide lovers to this day!

Taking a cue from the naked explorers of authentic sin, Clash of the Couples is a new anthology featuring a collection of completely absurd lovers’ squabbles and relationship spats. Think couples fight over kids, sex, and money? Think again! Furniture, the last beer, and where to store the placenta are what genuinely ignite our feuds. And no argument is off limits. This book has it all!

Inside you’ll find a gut-busting compilation of stories such as: “I Can’t Believe You Ate My Sandwich,” “Never Assume Anything,” “Only I Can Talk About Me,” and “You Want Some College Boobs?” from forty-three fearless writers. Prepare to laugh, roll your eyes, and shiver in suspense. While Eve may have had the first bite, we ate the whole tree. And made pies.

Published by Blue Lobster Book Co., Clash of the Couples launches loudly and obnoxiously on November 3, 2014. You’ll hear us coming, but look for it on Amazon, B&N, Apple, and other places where you typically buy books. For instant updates, follow along on Facebook!


And if you’re wondering who else is in this anthology besides me, feel free to take a look at the below list of contributors. You just might find some fresh blog material you didn’t know about, and everyone knows that reading fresh blog material is an amazing way to fritter away your time at work better your daily life.

The lineup includes:

Andrew S. Delfino of Almost Coherent Parent
Crystal Ponti of MommiFried
Camille DeFer Thompson of Camille DeFer Thompson
Kimberly Morand of Anchor Magazine: Navigating Depression, Bipolar, and Anxiety
Meredith Napolitano of From Meredith to Mommy
Chris Dean of pixie.c.d.
Linda Roy of elleroy was here
Kevin Zelenka of Double Trouble Daddy
Sarah Cottrell of Housewife Plus
R.C. Liley of Going Dad
Mary Widdicks of Outmanned
Marie Bollman of Make Your Own Damn Dinner
Ginny Marie of Lemon Drop Pie
Mike Reynolds of Puzzling Posts
Leigh-Mary Hoffmann of Happily Ever Laughter Blog
Lisa Petty of Petty Thoughts
Lynn Shattuck of The Light Will Find You
Jeff Bogle of Out With The Kids
Stacey Gustafson of Are You Kidding Me?
Angela Godbout of FRaPS
Courtney Conover of The Brown Girl with Long Hair
Jenny Hills of Express Bus Mama
Marcia Kester Doyle of Menopausal Mother
Julia Arnold of Frantic Mama
Jessica Azar of Herd Management
Susan A. Black of I Like That
Dave Lesser of Amateur Idiot Professional Dad
Sarah (est. 1975) of est. 1975
Nicole R. Wildhood of Naught Be All Else
Angela Keck of Writer Mom’s Blog
Alexa Bigwarfe of No Holding Back
Brian Sorrell of Dadding Full Time
Kathryn Leehane of Foxy Wine Pocket
April Grant of 100lb Countdown
Bev Feldman of Linkouture
Jodi Flaherty of The Noise of Boys
Scott Rigdon of Three Five Zero
Lydia Richmond of Cluttered Genius
Allie Burdick of VITA – Train for Life
Michelle Grewe of Crumpets and Bollocks
Barb Godshalk, Co-Author of Tall Tales and Short Stories from South Jersey
Jonathon Floyd of One Funny Daddy
Amanda Mushro of Questionable Choices in Parenting
Chris Carter of The Mom Cafe


And lastly, just to wet your whistle? Here’s MY teaser from the book:

Clash of the Couples teaser

(Hint: It’s not my husband.)

Ending on a serious note: I’m really excited about this book, guys. And I just want to say that if weren’t for the help and support of all my loyal so-and-sos, this silly blog would not have made it so far in just nine months. I appreciate each and every one of your butts.

how to throw a frugal wedding

During the summer of 2006, my sister Cheeks and I both got married.

It was her first wedding; it was my second. She chose June; I chose August. Hers was an outdoor ceremony; mine was a church do. She later exchanged her husband for a better model; I hung onto mine.

As you can imagine, the months leading up to the summer of 2006 were a nauseating blur of “talkin’ bout wedding shit” that started to bore even us after a while. Because there are really only so many “wedding shit” chats, texts, emails, and phone calls that two people can have without wanting to drive a pair of white satin spike heels into their eyeballs.

Luckily for you, we started to entertain ourselves a little. So sit back, take a load off, and enjoy: Sarah and Cheeks’ 2006 Guide to Throwing a Frugal Wedding.



Sarah: Okay. The first thing you have to get for a wedding is the bridal gown. We already mentioned a burlap sack. I recommend a plastic grocery bag for the headpiece. You can just jam it on over your hair. Instant veil!

Also, do your own makeup in a dimly-lit church basement for minimum cost and maximum hotness.
PRO TIP: Do your own makeup in a dimly-lit church basement for minimum cost and maximum hotness.

Cheeks: The bridesmaids can wear whatever they find in the ‘One Spot’ at Target.

Sarah: So, flip flops and a dress made of magnets.

Cheeks: baahahaha
Cheeks: and plastic bangles

Sarah: and scrunchies

Cheeks: and glitter

Sarah: and tea lights


Sarah: I think we already discussed the bouquets – sticks, dead stems, dirt, and cat barf
Sarah: held together with a 10-year-old scrunchie
Sarah: or one of those plastic claw clips that went out of style 100 years ago

Cheeks: I say boutonnieres made of leaves scraped out of the gutter
Cheeks: pinned on with those black clips you can steal from work

Sarah: BAHA
Sarah: For decorations, how about the gigantic Christmas ornaments that Mom finds on sale at “Home Goods”
Sarah: for 25 cents
Sarah: where you can clearly see the remnants of the orange “Clearance” stickers half-assedly scratched off

wedding boobs
A fabulous idea for homemade centerpieces. You’re welcome.

Cheeks: Hahaha that’s good
Cheeks: and strings of Christmas lights that half don’t work

Sarah: The outdoor kind. The huge ones. And half of them are broken and in shards.
Sarah: Also, for flowers? It’s back to Home Goods for the fakest, ugliest, cheapest ones we can find.
Sarah: “.0005 cents apiece for huge, fake, bright orange carnations with the leaves half off? I’ll take 10,000!”

Cheeks: Bahahaha
Cheeks: Of course, on clearance.

Sarah: Of course, with orange stickers.


Cheeks: For the DJ you could hook up a 20-year-old ‘tuner’ set to the AM jazz station that fritzes out every two minutes.

Sarah: No, even better – public broadcasting.

Cheeks: Bahaha like NPR

Sarah: Playing fusion jazz and world music, occasionally interrupting for “All Things Considered” and “Car Talk”


Sarah: Of course, the whole ceremony will be conducted in someone’s sun room or screened-in porch
Sarah: with everyone sitting on random mismatched lawnchairs, most of which smell like the basement or cat pee.

Cheeks: Bahaha oh of course
Cheeks: with ferns encroaching on personal space


Sarah: For appetizers, we will have ten-year-old biscotti in a big plastic jug from Sam’s that we can all pass around.
Sarah: For “butlered hor d’ouevres” we will have pizza rolls and “Bagel Bites”

Cheeks: taped to the cat
Cheeks: Oh and “Italian Dippers”

Sarah: BAHAHAaaaaa and mozzarella sticks
Sarah: and that artichoke dip that smells like feet
Sarah: For the main course? Campbell’s soup. “Chunky Style” if you want to splurge.
Sarah: And day old bread.

Cheeks: And salad in a bag.


Sarah: For the wedding cake, we will have “defrosted” Sara Lee pound cake, and by “defrosted” I mean you could totally bust a wall down with it.
Sarah: With Breyer’s Vanilla Bean ice cream.
Sarah: For the bride and groom figures it will be one naked headless Barbie doll, and one “butch” Barbie doll with her hair cut real short, and wearing Ken’s clothes.


Sarah: What else is left? Oh, photography. Well, duh. DISPOSABLE CAMERAS PEOPLE

Why not save money on photography by letting your friends take pictures with disposable cameras? Because of shit like this. That’s why.

Cheeks: Oh, not even.

Cheeks: It will be like one shitty webcam in the corner
Cheeks: broadcasting over “C-U C-Me”

Sarah: And someone will accidentally sit on it

Sarah: and release a series of farts, which will preclude any other audio from being transmitted.

Cheeks: It’s okay, it will be more entertaining than the fuzzy NPR from the tuner.


Cheeks: Invitations will be made in “Print Shop” with dumb church bell clip art
Cheeks: and printed on some shitty printer that leaves a bunch of lines.

Sarah: PRINT SHOP BAhhhhhh
Sarah: We’ll make them in the basement on the old Apple II+.

Cheeks: Yes and print them on dot matrix printers.


Well, folks? There you have it. When you’re interested in throwing a frugal wedding you know who to ask for advice. You heard it here first!

If you haven’t already done so, consider following est. 1975 on Facebook, Twitter, and/or Pinterest! I add fresh, hilarious material every single day.

fish barf

Not long after I became pregnant with my only son, I began to suffer from an obscure medical condition called “morning sickness.”

If you’re like most people, you’ve probably never heard of this highly unusual complication of pregnancy. But guess what? You’re in luck! As someone who has personally experienced the rare phenomenon of “morning sickness,” I am more than qualified to explain it to you.

For those of you not in the know, “morning sickness” happens like this:

1. You get knocked up.
2. You barf forever.

I should also mention that in some cases of “morning sickness,” the symptoms can last well beyond the first trimester into the ENTIRE NINE MONTHS OF YOUR PREGNANCY. And I’m sure it won’t surprise you to know that I was one of those cases. I’m not going to lie — it was THE WORST. And whatever the opposite of THE BEST is. The only bright side was that I walked away with a bunch of awesome stories to tell. Stories like:

Yet, one story in particular will always stand out as the pinnacle of my “morning sickness” experience, and I hope you will find it as disgusting delightful as I do. Enjoy.


It was six weeks before my son was due to arrive, and three weeks before he actually did arrive. By this time I had my morning sickness mostly under control with a life-saving cocktail of Zofran and Unisom — though when I say “mostly under control” I mean I was only barfing several times a week as opposed to several times a day. 

For some reason my husband had suggested fish and chips for dinner and for some reason I had agreed. But almost immediately after we’d finished eating, my stomach started to grumble and bitch, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that my fish and chips dinner was not going to *stay* dinner. And I also knew that when it came up, it was going to be BAD.

You know how you can just tell? I could just tell.

And I was right. It was BAD.

First I got the sweats. Then I became nauseous. At first I tried doing “morning sickness mitigation tricks” like laying on my left side and taking deep breaths. Those didn’t work, so I had my husband bring me the trusty Big Blue Bowl, a large mixing bowl from Williams-Sonoma that I took almost everywhere. You know — just in case. Sometimes it helped just having it around, even if I didn’t end up actually using it.

Morning Sickness
Three months pregnant and taking a nap with two lazy cats, a Jennifer Weiner novel, and the ever-present Big Blue Bowl.

Sadly, the comforting properties of the Big Blue Bowl did not alleviate my nausea this time around, and soon I was lunging towards the bathroom, just barely making it to the sink in time to evacuate all of my fish and chips into its porcelain embrace. But when I turned on the faucet to try and rinse everything down the drain, the sink informed me in no uncertain terms that IT WAS NOT GOING TO COOPERATE. It was completely clogged with partially digested fish chunks and was bound and determined to stay that way.

So I spent the next ten minutes bailing out the sink with the trusty Big Blue Bowl (a call-to-arms not exactly in its job description) and relocating all of the nasty chunky grossness into the toilet, where it could be flushed away with ease. The sink’s drain remained clogged, but at least there was no longer any standing fish puke water in the basin.


It was at this point that I realized I was once again starting to sweat. And within moments it became crystal clear that something unpleasant was about to start happening in the *other* direction, and it was about to start happening in very short order.

And sure enough, it did.

For the first time since I’d been in the family way, I became struck with raging diarrhea.

In all honesty? After months and months of pregnancy constipation, I thought I might actually enjoy a little bit of diarrhea. BUT I WAS WRONG. This was no “cut it loose and heave a cleansing sigh of relief” diarrhea. This was painful, cramping, “take all your clothes off and hang onto the sides of the toilet seat for dear life while rivers of sweat run down your back and into your ass cleavage” diarrhea. And it was no bueno.

(A brief aside: For those of you who are wondering whether this whole thing might just have been food poisoning, I can assure you that it most definitely wasn’t. My husband ate some of my fish AND some of my chips, and didn’t get sick.)

Eventually everything worked its way out, and when I was feeling able, I cleaned up as much as I possibly could (the fish puke water, the diarrhea residue, and did I mention I also pissed on the floor while barfing? Because I did.) Unfortunately the sink was still clogged, and needed to be dealt with. I tried to plunge it, but that didn’t work; then I tried Drano, with equally unfortunate results. So despite my best efforts my poor husband was finally called in to disassemble the sink, which was now clogged with regurgitated fish parts *and* puke *and* Drano.

Guys? I have the best husband. Because even though he said he wasn’t grossed out by the fish barf, I know he kind of was. Wouldn’t you be? I mean, *I* was grossed out by it and it was *my* barf. BARF THAT SMELLED LIKE YACKED-UP FISH. SMOTHERED IN DRANO.

And while I’m bestowing glowing words upon my husband, I think I should also mention that we didn’t have any rubber gloves in the house at the time. I’ll let that sink for a moment.

*a moment*

Yeah. Exactly. EWWWWWWWwwwwwwwwwwwww.


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Photo credits:
The copyright holder of this work releases this work into the public domain. This applies worldwide. 16:31, 27 February 2006. Owner: Zserghei. Title: Atlantic cod live. Category:Gadus morhua. — Modified