Gary, famously, cannot puke, as he was born with an extra-long uvula resting on his gag reflex in utero.
Or at least, he rarely pukes. In the past 43 years, some erythromycin did claw its way up through his esophagus. I saw it with mine own eyes. He might have puked when his gallbladder was going out in San Francisco; I heard some convincing noises.
It is rare, though, and as such he is unfamiliar with the process, so he freaks out when I puke. As I did this morning.
He emerged from his room. “ELLEN WHY ARE YOU MAKING THAT NOISE?”
Me: [Bleeaaahretchbarf]
Gary, reels back: “OH MY GOD YOU’RE VOMITING.”
Me: [Blaaaaahhhhhspitspit] [Gasps] “Bacon. I thought I could eat bacon.” [Burp] “Too much bacon.”
Gary: “KEEP AWAY FROM ME YOU’RE SICK.”
Me: “No I’m not sick, it’s just the bacon.” (It was the bacon. I am sure that during her Ozempic journey Oprah herself had her own Bacon Comeuppance. I’ve been good, I tested my limits, and now I know. One bacon yes, two bacon, no.)
I cleaned up and walked toward him.
He flattened himself against the wall. “NO GET AWAY GET AWAY. YOU ARE SICK.”
It’s ridiculous. He knows how vomiting works on a theoretical level. He has seen me bounce back after a barf. But still he acts as if it’s a near-death experience.
4 responses to “Puking”
It’s hard to make up for a lack of experience, but… it’s not a total lack? He should grasp this by now.
(to be fair, norovirus and its friends are *absolutely miserable* so while yep, 99% it’s the bacon, 1% is maaaybe enough to scuttle around frantically cleansing all surfaces with bleach wipes or whatever he did next)
KC – Clean? Gary? Hard Nope on that.
What is it with men not throwing up? Same with my husband. He hasn’t thrown up since he was nine! I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve barfed since I was nine!
Lisa – I think a big part of it is that for me anyway, barfing came upon me every 28 days. Men don’t have periods, so they barf far less. Maybe their bodies don’t see barfing as an option for getting the bad stuff out.