Friday night, after the movie, I had Coco's for dinner.  I had the Coco Combo.  I ordered the strawberry cheesecake to go.  Saturday morning, I had a delicious breakfast of three fried eggs with Tabasco sauce, crisp bacon and warm tortillas.  Sometime before 2pm, I ate my cheesecake.  It was almost too rich but I finished it all, sharing a little with Sid along the way.

In the evening, Erin went out shopping and I stayed home with Sid.  We watched the new Alvin and the Chipmunks movie and we both liked it.  The animation was cute and they updated some of the old songs to fit modern pop music.

At one point, during the movie, I got up to grab a blanket and pillows to throw down on the living room floor.  The instant I turned around, Sid rolled her baked potato body off the couch.  She landed hard but her back seemed to take the brunt of it.  I didn't hear much skull.  In any case, I shrieked and probably made things worse by startling her.  I felt her head and there was no bump.  I moved her little limbs around and everything seemed okay.  I took out my flashlight and checked her pupils and I'm not sure what I was looking for but her eyes looked normal and it made me feel better.

When I was little, my mom used to say that you should never go to sleep after banging your head.  She knew a girl named Erb Ann Le Jend that had hit her head and taken a nap and never woke up.  But Sidney looked tired and it was around her bedtime and she was due for a bottle.  I fed her and she fell asleep and I watched her breathe for the next half hour just to make sure.  She fussed around occasionally to get comfortable and did her normal fidgeting.

Erin showed up around 9pm after I'd covered up any evidence of my bad parenting and not a moment too soon.  I was overcome with a lethargic achy feeling and went straight to bed.  I covered up with a sheet but I was still shivering.  Erin checked my temperature but it was normal.  I covered up with a blanket and that seemed to help.  She brought me water and Ibuprofen tablets at one point and I slept miserably until Sunday around noon.

I got up to shit once and it smelled like illness shit.  I figured it was either the flu or the cheesecake.  I can live with the cheesecake but the flu would be bad news in my generally weakened state.  The shit smelled so bad that Erin was forced to fly to India and the Vatican for industrial strength Nag Champa and a Catholic exorcist.

Sunday afternoon, I showered and wore a brand new white t-shirt from a new package of shirts Erin bought for me.  They fit alright but they're titty-C4 waiting to explode.  If I gain ten pounds and wear that shirt, I'll be able to start charging for lap dances at Bourbon Street.

We took Sid to have pictures taken by one of Erin's friends.  It went well and we ate at Miracle Mile afterwards.  Doctors always say it's good to take it easy on your stomach after any bout of stomach flu or food poisoning so I ordered a huge pastrami sandwich on a kaiser roll with french fries and a pickle spear.  Extra large iced tea with a refill to go.

On the drive home, we passed by a couple of potential daycares and a nearby home that has an elaborate Christmas display every winter.  It was too early for the lights to be on so we headed home.  We thought about stopping at a carneceria for some marinated beef but my stomach started churning.  Frank Herbert said it best:  the spice must flow.

Sometime in 2003, I had Irish Stew with soda bread at Rosie McCaffrey's.  It gave me diarrhea the next day and it looked exactly like the Irish stew I'd lunched on the day before.  Strangely, E. Colli flavored cheesecake gives about the same results.

Things got better after I eliminated most of my bodily fluids and I was good for the rest of the night, relatively speaking.  After Sid fell asleep, Erin and I watched Hancock and we both liked it.  Which proves I'm not a racist.