Saturday, June 19, 2010

Hot Wings = Hot Water

When I was quite young I tried to steal a gum ball from a sundries store in Cottonwood. I was with my mom and she caught me. She made me go up to the manager of the store, return the gum, and apologize.

I was devastated! I was shamed!

I didn't steal again.

I learned to apologize when I'd done something very wrong.

This lesson has stuck with me and now I need to apologize again for doing something terribly wrong.

I'm sorry, Mikayla. I let the lure of Buffalo Wild Wings take away my better judgment.

I knew that while in the womb you had such a powerful reaction to hot wings I thought I was going into labor. I ignored that knowledge.

I knew that when you were a few weeks old my return trip to BWW caused you angst. I thought you would outgrow your reaction.

I was dazzled by the yellow & black logo and "angel cow" picture (as Mia calls it).

I felt I couldn't help myself!

Those hot wings offered a smoke & mirror game which I gladly played, believing that I could get away with ingesting food that usually makes my own bowels burn without you also paying the price.

I was terribly wrong. I'm terribly sorry.

Nine hours after my pure, epicurian enjoyment of hot wings you woke up hungry & I fed you.

For about an hour you writhed and moaned in my arms while I did laps through the house in the dark.

Living room. Kitchen. Dining room. Living room. Kitchen. Dining room. Living room. Kitchen. Dining room.

I'm sorry! So sorry! I never thought it could happen to me - to you!

I was foolish! (And now I am scared and dreading your next time to eat!)

Please forgive me - I will never cheat on you with hot wings again.


And the update: I wrote this at 4 a.m. That was when Mikayla collapsed into an exhausted heap. This was not a restful sleep, but it was sleep. At 8 a.m. she woke up again screaming and had four massive gas explosions. Then had some (what I assume are) burning burps.

I feel like I’ve colluded with Buffalo Wild Wings to try to kill her. At least I’m pretty sure that’s what she thinks. It’s now 9:15 and the cries are going strong. Our dear, sweet, quiet, little baby has just experienced the worst day of her life...

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