I have been working pretty hard over the last couple of weeks. I am beginning to question whether it was a good idea to apply for this position. If the past two days are any indication, I don’t think it is. But we will see what happens.

Last night, neither Kathy nor I felt like cooking. I’m not sure if either of us ever REALLY feel like cooking. So we decided to go out. Nothing fancy. Just went down the road to Chipotle’s. Richard had never been before. Fortunately, the menu is short, or else we could have been there all night.

Now, the burritos at Chipotle’s are pretty big. In fact, they are HUGE! Rich ordered the steak fajita burrito (you get onions and peppers instead of beans). He took his first bite and got this contented, blissful look on his face. What a smile! Mmmmmm, mmmmmm, good! The problem with this is that one doesn’t know when to stop. The further you go, the better the burrito. Now, did I mention that the burritos are kinda big? Richard kept plugging away at his, savoring each tasty bite, and not wanting to miss anything. The conversation was light. Talked about family things, school, work, stuff. Richard was joining in and munching away at his burrito. Remember, they are pretty big. I think I said that before.

Richard has a habit of, when he wants to finish eating something, he will take the goodies off and leave the rest. He eats the topping off pizza, leaving the crust, for example. He did the same thing with his burrito. Ate the innards, and left the tortilla. Shortly after finishing the last savory bite of his most exquisite, albeit HUGE burrito, Richard rose and made a beeline for the bathroom. Now, his color wasn’t different, but it was bright! He emerged a few minutes later, hands over stomach, walking rather slowly and with an interesting look on his face.

“What’s wrong, bud?” I asked.

“I threw up a little”. He said.

He then went on to describe, in detail, why he left the table, what his stomach was doing, how his mouth felt, how his stomach felt, etc culminating with throwing up a little.

Oh.

When I was a kid, my family would sometimes go to Wyatt’s Cafeteria after church. As I was moving down the line, my dad would tell me “don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach”. I would always listen to my dad. What decent obedient child wouldn’t? I would listen, but not obey, stuffing myself silly with all the tasty tidbits to be found in this most excellent of restaurants. No matter how much I ate, however, I always had room for strawberry shortcake. By the time we got home, I wouldn’t feel too good. Go figure.

So, maybe it’s time to pass on fatherly advice to my child. Don’t let your eyes get bigger than your stomach, Rich.

The conversation during the drive home was quite “colorful”. No one was sick, but that was the overriding topic. Richard reminded us of a girl who threw up in school earlier this week. Kayleigh joined right in. I don’t remember, or I don’t want to remember specific points. I think even Kathy put in her two cents worth.

Ah, family fun times.