Never Eat Nachos for Breakfast

A snapshot of my Saturday.

I started to feel bad on Friday night. Not sick, exactly, just run down and tired. I chalked it up to the fact that I spent several hours that day bent over a homemade Hipster Elmo costume.

Not shown: Furry red leg warmers,
retro shirt with bowtie, giant crayon.

I went to bed early, because we all had to get up at the ass-crack of dawn to be at a karate tournament Saturday morning. When the ass-crack came, I was still exhausted. I figured I'd pump some coffee into me and feel much better.

That's when things got bad. I. Was. Out. Of. Coffee.

My world without coffee. For real.

So OK. So we could always stop at McD's on the way and grab me a big old cup of java. Except that Tired Chuck + No Coffee + Ass-Crack of Dawn inexorably equals Huge Fight with Beloved Spouse. I don't even remember what it was about, because after 22 years of marriage all fights are stupid. Anyway, we all headed out to the karate tournament in stony silence, which I was NOT going to break by asking to stop for coffee. I was determined to be as angry and surly as possible. That's the kind of emotionally mature person I am.

...you.

But after an hour or so of sitting in the World's Least Comfortable Bleachers at the tournament, I was exhausted and hungry and my ass hurt. So I had to let go of the anger. There's only so much one person can juggle. I stopped being mad at whatever it was BelSpouse had done (or possibly what I had done, although I doubt it, because it's my story).

We made our way to the concessions stand. There was no coffee there. I was sad. But if I couldn't have caffeine, I absolutely needed food, or I was going to perish. Yes, perish, right there in the cafeteria of Barbara Bush Middle School, home of the Barbara Bush Broncos - ride 'em, Barbara Bush Broncos!

I ended up eating nachos.

Uh-uh, that is nacho cheese. I LOVE that joke.

When you're not feeling well and you haven't had breakfast and your body is craving caffeine, you should NOT have nachos for your first meal of the day. Any other time, you're good. But not then.

Long story short, PDaughter kicked butt at her tournament, and I went home and crashed. But only for an hour, because I had to perform major reconstructive surgery on Hipster Elmo, who basically fell apart when PDaughter wore him to a Halloween dance Friday night.

Turns out my sewing machine can't handle red faux fur. Also, Stitch Witchery will not bind it to fabric. And double-sided photo adhesive doesn't do the trick either. So, with PDaughter due at a Halloween party any minute, I painstakingly hand-sewed Elmo's raveled seams and reattached his little bowtie. Then I drove PDaughter and a friend across town to their party. Then I went home and crashed.

Those nachos were not sitting pretty.

When I woke up, BelSpouse and I had big salads for lunch. Which didn't much appease my stomach, but it was better than piling on more nachos. Then we went grocery shopping, because BelSpouse decided that dragging his sick, exhausted wife through the grocery store was the ticket to wellness.

It worked. I felt GREAT.

I went home and I crashed. Are you sensing a theme here?

Then I got up and fetched PDaughter from her Halloween party. Then I poured myself a drink and stretched out on the couch. And I finally felt a little better. Then I crashed, this time for the night.

This morning I had coffee. And a big bowl of Fiber One cereal for breakfast. I feel a lot better.

Lessons learned:

Nachos = not a breakfast food, despite their high corn content.

Vodka = effective at treating almost any ailment.

Coffee = critical to life. If the Mars Rover finds coffee on the Red Planet, we need to colonize that fucker, stat.

Also, Hipster Elmo = awesome costume, but just slightly less awesome than the kid who put on a bike helmet, taped a syringe to his arm, and went as Lance Armstrong.

The competition is so fierce out there. It's enough to drive a mom to processed cheese.