Bad Food
I had planned to talk about my vacation tonight. I spent the weekend with both my parents and the in-laws. We all got together for a quick trip to Ocean City and we had a lot of fun. However, I’m not much in the mood for vacation talk at the moment. See, I spent the weekend with the mother-in-law and, not long ago, she was taken to the hospital.
Early signs are good. It looks like it is a case of food poisoning. Some fast food caught up with her in a very bad way. The wife had the displeasure of following the ambulance to the hospital. That’s a visual my brain keeps tumbling over. Those flashing lights — that’s for mom.
The wife is still at the hospital. I’m at home with the baby. I’ll leave the emergency babysitter phone call for later. I desperately hope I don’t need it.
I want to be there for the wife. My shoulder is there in spirit. But I want to stay with my son. There’s a (hopefully small) family crisis. He needs me. Or, maybe more truthfully, I need him.
That’s one place where the events of tonight has brought about a change of perspective. It’s not the mother-in-law who was carted to the hospital this night. It was my son’s grandmother. A new little heart wishes her well. We both do.
Update: She’s coming home from the hospital today; one night was enough. There’s no telling when the little tike will get his daytime babysitter back but she’s feeling better. Shew.
