Yea, Though I Walk Through The Valley Of The Shadow Of Death...

It's been so long since I posted here, I'm sure that the three people who check in every now and then have wondered if I fell off the face of the Earth.  And the truth is, I almost did.  I've been working on unpacking from our vacation, along with trying (unsuccessfully, I might add) to keep up with my regular chores.  It all finally came to head last Wednesday when I said to my husband, "Let's go out.  We haven't been to Los Arcos in awhile."  So we headed over to our favorite Mexican place, where I ordered the one thing I always order whenever I eat at a Mexican restaurant.  Not because I'm picky.  I order this Food Of The Gods because I don't make it at home--too much work, not enough time--and no one else likes it, which means, for once, I don't have to share.  There is nothing more sacred to me in the world of Mexican food than the TAMALE.  Ladies and gentlemen, I would do almost anything for a tamale.  What my husband calls "meat surrounded by mushy goo" I call Manna From Heaven.  Mama will attest to this.  She and I are Tamale Queens.

Back to the story.

So I order my heavenly tamale, and I split a plate of beans and rice with the kids.  Every bite was a pleasure.  I'm not sure they would even need to wash the plate I ate from, since I left it so clean.  We paid the bill, and headed for home, where I immediately began to feel sick.  And it only got worse.  No more detail than that, my friends.  Let's just say that anyone who knows me knows I can work through an illness like a Clydesdale.  But this completely knocked me flat--literally--so flat that my husband (who NEVER misses a day of work) actually called in sick-by-proxy so that I could lay in bed and welcome death.  (Who never showed up, by the way.)  He graciously fed the children dry Cheerios and slices of cheddar cheese several times that day, and even managed to heat up a few chicken nuggets in the microwave.

My youngest daughter was so upset at her inability to turn the required doorknobs that would lead her straight to my side and onto the bed for a hearty jumping session.  She cried a little that day.  My oldest daughter kept me fully reminded that should I need anything--and I'm sure she meant anything--that I could just call, and she would dutifully run to my aid.  She also drew several pictures for me.  One wished me "a good night's rest and to feel better in the morning" and another was a colorful reminder to "always eat healthy food".  Let's just say I was well taken care of.

It's taken me a few days to get back on track, but now that things are mostly back to normal, I'll be posting again on a more regular basis.  I think it'll be awhile before I have my next tamale, however. 

Keep on reading!  (And I really mean EATING.)

Gina

Comments

[patri-ette]

Dear Gina:

Do not forsake the tamale. Just give the ones at Los Arcos a "siesta" or rest, as it were. The Lord in his infinite wisdom stated, "Man (and us, too) shall not live by bread alone", unless, of course, the bread was a panini with prosciutto and melted provolone...

Mama

[Braden]

"and another was a colorful reminder to 'always eat healthy food'"

Too cute!