Vile Soup

(2)

The soup looked - there is no better word to describe it - vile. It had a dark menacing green color to it but it smelled ok. I ladeled some of it into a bowl and heated it up in the microwave, then I took it with me to the couch and began spooning it down. It was (1907 and Kootch just walked past the bedroom door and wished me goodnight) fair, definitely not outstanding, soup. It looked even viler in the stark while bowl. I finished the soup and anticipated the usual bodily response of decreased queasiness as I continud to watch tv.

Instead the queasiness increased. I decided to head for bed again. As I entered the bedroom I got the definite signal that I was about to throw up. I thought, 'I can beat this if I can only lay down.' The first contraction came just as I sat down on the bed, filling my mouth with Kootch's vile soup. I sat there for several seconds debating what to do with it. Should I swallow it again and lay down as if nothing had happened? Should I go to the bathroom and puke in the potty? The next contraction ended all speculation forcing me to puke immediately in the pee pot next to the bed. I sat there dutifully following Nature's demand through about five contractions. When the 'all clear' sounded I was sitting there with a pot half full of a mixture of puke and pee. Furthermore my lower denture was in there somewhere (being skin-gassed here).