Saturday, February 24, 2007

Trouble in Paradise

I knew it would happen.

A careless word. Too many cocktails. He's warm. I'm cold. The lid left off the toothpaste. Not enough towels. My alarm clock buzzing for forty minutes. Ptomaine poisoning.

That's right.  After I joked in my last post about taking my Prince to the emergency room, he really did get sick. And believe it or not, it wasn't my cooking. But it was my fault.

Last night we went to "the best steakhouse in Bannister" according to friends. I knew he loved a good steak and I wanted it to be a special evening for him. It certainly was that.

I ordered petit filet Mignon and he the T-Bone with mushrooms - rare.
Very rare.
Too rare

On the way back, he started to feel sick so I took him straight to the castle. Nurse Barbie to the rescue.
Sort of.

I'm a terrible nurse.

The guy has food poisoning. What's a Pencil Skirt to do?

I tried to make it romantic.
I lit candles.
He was not amused.
I drew a bubble bath.
He was not amused.

I got in the bubble bath.
He was not amused.

I threw rose petals on the bed.
I thought he was going to kill me.
I didn't mean for them to land in his Imodium.

"My Prince"  I said, "how am I supposed to help you when you won't come out of the lavatory? I'm just trying to strike a mood here!"

"Strike a match, Mimi. Just strike a match."

"You're so grumpy. Didn't you have enough to eat??! I can fix something else for you if you'd like......sweetie?....sugar lips?...."

I hate slamming doors.

OK, Mimi. Think. What would a good girlfriend do? I know! I'll put on one of those cute nurse outfits and we'll play hospital. That should make him feel better right away.

So when he came out of the room-of-doom I was wearing this.

I hate slamming doors.

Maybe I should call the hospital.
Right after I call my friend Turnbaby. She'll know what to do.

"Turn!" I whispered so that boyfriend-in-the-bathroom wouldn't hear, "My Prince is sick. I'm sunk. What should I do?"

"Mims, I told you not to cook."

"I didn' was the.."

"Did you light candles, prepare a bubble bath and throw rose petals as I suggested?"

"Yes, Turn. He hated it. And the paper hat made him sicker."

"Paper hat? What paper hat? I never said anything about hats, Mims. Pay attention!"

"I need diagrams, girlfriend. A map. A Ouija board. A priest. Anything! My guy is green and I'm sinking in a pile of lingerie here!!!

"Calm down, Mimi.
He needs a shot."


"Wait! A shot of what? Turn!!"

Thanks a lot, girlfriend. 
Some friend you are.

His flight back to New England is in less than 24 hours, our last romantic night is ruined and he's still sleeping. Well....we do have tonight. I'll call the hospital (novel idea) and they'll tell me what to do.

No. It's too late for that. I should have called last night when his fever was 108.

Let's face it. I'm a terrible cook. A terrible nurse. A terrible girlfriend. Bloggingham Palace has seen better days, my friends. I'll just finish packing for him and when he wakes up maybe he'll forgive me. IF he wakes up. I can see it now. "Queen of Memes poisons Prince  on romantic holiday in the States....Film at 11." Nobody will believe I didn't do this! Everybody in the known world knows my middle name is Blanche. (Think infamous-American-woman-executed-on-death-row-for-poisoning-three-husbands-with-tainted-banana-pudding.) The local grocer will only allow me to purchase one banana at a time. My own family won't allow me bring food at holidays.

This is not good.

Maybe he won't even remember last night. Just then I heard a crashing noise in the bedroom. Prince is sitting up in bed. He lives.

"Good morning, sweetheart" he said. "How are YOU today?"

"Fine, dear," I cautiously remarked as I checked his fever. "YOu're looking much better today. You sure did sleep a long time. Do you remember last night?"


That's what I was afraid of.

"About that steak, Mimi....."

Here it comes. The end of our relationship. Washed down with Chardonnay and a bad steak.

"I don't think it was the steak, Mims. I think it was the...."

"Bud?" I interrupted. "I don't feel so well. ...."

"We both had the Caesar salad dressing, didn't we?
I'm surprised you're not...You do look kind of pale."

"Where are you going, Mims? I'm feeling so much better now! We can still have our romantic night. I'll light the candles, draw a bubble bath. Where are those rose petals?...Mimi? Are you listening? And I had a crazy dream about a nurse in a cute little Red Cross outfit. Hmmmm......???

He hates slamming doors.

Postscript: For the record, my Prince really did have a mild case of food poisoning last night. He is feeling better today. I hope this makes him laugh.

Update: It's long over. Loooong over. Perhaps it was my cooking...


Bud Weiser, WTIT said...

For the record, those were not rose petals that you were throwing on me. I New England we call them spoons. I thought the outfits were a nice touch, but when you cannot leave the bathroom you could be wearing anything or for THAT matter nothing, and I would not have noticed.

I survived your cooking after all those warnings (she really is a great cook), but Banister's best steak house serves bad beef.

Oh. One other thing. I love you.

Turnbaby said...


See Mims --he got the right--um--'shot' after all!

Annelisa said...

Oooo, gushy! :-)

I was going to say - at least it wasn't your cooking - imagine having that on your head instead of the paper hat!

So, the royalty of Saturday's Comeback Challenge survives to judge another day... it's good to see you with your crown on again :-)

By the way, how did you managed to, not only do your NaNoWriMo, but also your posts and the Blogblast For Peace - you're one helluva superlady!!

Anonymous said...

What an adorable post. Oh, I'm so sorry Bud got sick. I was so sick, too--flu not food poisoning. You know, the steak is more and more rare these days. I order medium or medium rare to get what used to rare. Anyway lots of fun. I'm sorry your little get-together on a non-romantic note. The rose petals were terrific--just have to say.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I'm tearing up. Bud said, "I love you." I'm going to go wrinkle few a tissues kills are killing me...

Bond said...

OH MIMI... so sorry for the mishap... Bannister needs a much better restaurant then that...

Next time, I can come and cook and hide discretely in the kitchen and you can take all the credit

Mimi Lenox said...

Bud - I love you, too.

That's all that needs to be said.

Mimi Lenox said...

Turnbaby - Yes, I was worried for nothing. he he

Mimi Lenox said...

Annelisa - I have no doubt you will finish your novel and all other endeavors with grace and intelligence - as usual. YOU are a superwoman in my view.

Mimi Lenox said...

Gale - Bud is feeling much better tonight. Thanks for stopping in and sharing our saga of food poisoning and love in the blogosphere. The story continues....Who woulda thunk I'd meet such a fabulous man while blogging??!

Mimi Lenox said...

Bond - Actually, this time it wasn't my cooking at all. Nonetheless, he was very sick.

Thanks, but no thanks, to your offer to cook. I think that may be one too many bloggers in the kitchen. I plan to surprise him again soon with a special evening just the two of us. Shhh..don't tell.

My Marrakech said...

Gawd, this is all so sweet, I can barely stand it! I wonder if I can get my husband to tell me he loves me online. Can one of you guys write him please?

Empress Bee (of the High Sea) said...

aww mimi how sweet is he? he almost sounds like my charlie..... i'm just sayin'

smiles, bee

Mimi Lenox said...

Maryam - I am so lucky that he is an incredibly articulate and bold guy. I love it. He's very romantic in every way. It was a great vacation. For him to say it online is special indeed.

Mimi Lenox said...

Miss Bee - Yes, he is sweet. Consistently and genuinely.

Of course, everyone in the blogosphere knows how Charlie feels about you. I've been watching the two of you gush over each other for some time. You are a lucky lady.

Paul said...

I'm glad your budding (pun intended) relationship survived the first porcelain bus-driving experience. Ours was the night after Christmas.

Speedcat Hollydale said...

I can never eat a rare steak again ...

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