As the stomach turns

I accidentally made my wife throw up for the first time Friday night.

We were having pints at Dog & Duck as we often do, but Kate had given blood earlier in the day and never had time to eat a full lunch. As such, she was both tired and hungry, so we ordered a plate of nachos.

Just as we dug in, I decided to recount a somewhat disgusting yet noteworthy incident from the workday. Shortly after I'd arrived at the office Friday morning, my colleague Jean walked over to my cube and asked he to look inside her coffee mug. I peered in and saw the corpse of a large cockroach floating in a sea of cold coffee. It was pretty gross, but at least it enlivened the morning.

As regular readers of Kate's blog know, she cannot stand cockroaches. They freak her right the flip out. Having grown up in New England, she never had to come to terms with cockroaches as big as Hyundais crawling across her pillow as I did while growing up in Houston. Seeing one of those for the first time as an adult is bound to be traumatic, especially if you have a proclivity toward cleanliness and order.

That said, I didn't expect merely relating the café au cucaracha saga would do anything but give Kate a fleeting case of willies. As it was, she bolted up from the table and ran toward the ladies room. Fortunately for everyone, there was no line. I'd literally made my wife sick.

When she got back to the table, I apologized profusely. It is to Kate's eternal credit that she was able to laugh about it.

Any way you spin it, though, I'm now saddled with some seriously negative vomit karma.