Monday, December 30, 2013

A Little Irreverent. But Can You Blame Me?

Yesterday's Sunday School lesson included a discussion about how even when we think we are SO picked-on, there is always someone who has/had it worse.

It brought to mind one of our (Ty and I) favorite, and longest-standing jokes. When I get ridiculously whiny, Ty says, "Well, at least you don't live under a wagon wheel!" And then we proceed to bust our suspenders laughing. We go through a lot of suspenders.

Let me explain.

Once upon a time I was pregnant with Samera. I don't mean to diminish anything you or your mom or your sister or that lady you once heard about went through, but it was the worst ever. I had already survived one pregnancy that was horrible, but this was a whole new realm of misery.

I hadn't bathed in at least a week, probably longer. I hadn't moved off the couch in a few months (except to throw up every 20 minutes, of course).  I literally looked a lot like death (seriously - several people told me as much. People say weird stuff when they don't know what to say). And probably smelled worse.

A well-meaning man stopped by to see how we were doing.

After assessing the situation, he expressed sympathy. Briefly.

Here is where every person alive should take note: that is all you can and should do. Then stop.

But he didn't stop. Instead, he told me that his own sweet wife had been similarly (wrong again) afflicted with each of their children, but that during one such bout he had really taught her a valuable lesson (say what?) by relating a story of one of his ancestors who came across the plains.

A story he felt could now be of some benefit to me. (easy, Tex)

Apparently this destitute pioneer woman lost (I hate that term, and so let me clarify that he died) her husband and ended up building herself a make-shift cabin out of her wagon. All by herself.

Now doesn't that just put everything in perspective? (crickets. and a few mad hornets)

I just stared at him.

Luckily my husband has a lot more manners and social graces than I, and he somehow ushered the man out of our home before I could lay into him with one of my rants. Actually, I was too weak to rant, so whatever.

But if I hadn't weighed 90 pounds and been running on the fuel of the two measly cheerios that had somehow slipped past my stomach's strict security that week, this is what I would have said:

#1. Was she pregnant, too? Because unless she was, I don't want to hear about her. Right now, building a house sounds like a dreamland of candy canes and ice cream. If I felt good, I am pretty much convinced that I could build a freakin' sky scraper out of nothing but dry sand if I had to. Because having your strength and your health makes it possible for you to do anything. ANYTHING!

#2. I would have had all sorts of respect for that lady if you hadn't told me that story as a way to "make me feel better." Now all I want to know is whether or not she ever had "morning" (who named it that? A man, I'm guessing. Maybe this man.) sickness.

#3,4, and 5. Your poor,  poor wife.


Christy said...

OH my heck. I can't believe he had the gall to share that story with you!! I won't dare compare my sickness with yours, because even though my was horrible, yours tops the charts! If he would have said that to me, I think I would have "accidentally" thrown up in front of him...or maybe on him. Just to prove a point... of course. But judging by what you said about the guy, he wouldn't have got my point anyway so I would have had to throw up again and again and again and again....which was my daily life for 4 months straight anyway so it would have been easy. Sounds like both of us ONLY wish we could have had only "morning" sickness! People used to tell me all the time, "You are amazing for having as many kids as you did and being so sick". I think YOU are the amazing one!

Anonymous said...

Now if I only had this little gem of advice last year . . .I'm sure I would have coped waaaaayyy better.