What was he thinking?

With my oldest turning 20 years old recently, I've unknowingly waded into yet another uncharted parenting territory. I figured by this point in my life i would have seen it all, either in real life or on TV, and would surely get totally shocked by anything he did far less often. Sadly, this has not been the case. Let me make the disclaimer ***HE IS A GOOD KID*** OK, with that out of the way, it doesn't mean that all of this "good kid's" decisions are going to be wise ones, but I did make the (ever so foolish) assumption that he knew enough not to lay himself down on the tracks of the food poisoning express.

If you are at all familiar with the White Castle fast food franchise, you know that even on a good day with the "sliders" you are risking gastrointestinal distress. In fact, I have long held the theory that White Castle is owned by the makers of Imodeum, and I KNOW most of you know what I am talking about (sparing you the details, you can thank me later). Here's the lowdown. He had been out with friends and came home at about midnight with a bag of White Castle cheeseburgers, chicken rings and fries. Apparently he lost his appetite somewhere between the front door and the basement sofa because he fell asleep before taking one bite. I mean, given the chance to sleep or tease my stomach in the wee hours of the night, I would choose sleep hand's down, so I don't blame him there. It's what happened next that had me picking up my jaw from the floor....

Flash forward about nine hours. I decided to treat myself to some excitement around 11 a.m., and threw in some laundry (my basement also doubles as a laundry room, craft room and teen entertainment zone). I see him sitting on the basement sofa, he never made it upstairs, instead choosing to give in to the temptations of our exotic Value City sofa (the stuff dreams are made of!). Here's how this breaks down, much better in dialogue form:

"I was going to go into work, but my stomach is not feeling so good," he said.
"What's wrong, oh loving son?" I said (I embellished the part after the oh, BTW)
"I ate that White Castle," he said.
"Did you put the bag in the fridge last night?," I said... YOU KNOW, THE MINI FRIDGE THAT IS FOUR FEET FROM YOUR REAR END???? (again, I did not say this but boy did I want to!
**are you ready for this???*
"No," he said.
"So you ate White Castle that had been sitting out for about 10 hours?" I said, about to blow.
"Yes," he said.
"Why?" I said.
"Because I was hungry,"he said.
"WHAT??? Are you kidding me??????" I said. I mean, this part was almost too logical to get angry about, the more I thought about it.

That's the good part. I figured if White Castle hadn't already killed him at some point in his life, it probably wasn't going to now, and maybe some of the grease had even evaporated ... off chance that it could have even gotten less dangerous... probably the only food where that could be the case. That all being said, I did have some fun with him and told him he better stay home all day (he had a day full of plans) and rest, you know, it could hit him at any point. He was not happy about that but was too afraid to move a muscle to argue with me. I told him next time maybe invest the three steps over to the fridge to put the bag away.

Message received, albeit the long way.

Anyway, that's life in my house, never a dull or un-nauseous moment! :)

Enjoy the day,

Cindy