Happy New Year…

Let me set the scene.  It’s New Years Eve, 1999.  I’m newly married and extremely pregnant. (And yes, for the record, I can do the math.)

And I have a very weak stomach.

(Oh, and you can thank Ms. NinjaMedic for inspiring this little peak into my past.)

We’re driving to my Mother’s house for the Annual New Years Eve Party.   Hell, it’s fixin to flip to the year 2000, and truthfully, Mr. Epi and I are kind of curious to see if the the whole world is going to collapse into itself when the calendar flips to 01/01/00.

I’m riding alongside him in the Little-S-10-That-Could when there’s a noise that escapes from Mr. Epi’s  backside.  Something similar to what a duck would sound like while quacking.

And being sat on at the same time.

Instantly the cab is filled with what I can only describe as the most foul odor I had ever smelled.  Keep in mind that I hadn’t worked in EMS yet, so it was nothing compared to some of the things I’ve smelled since then, but to my virgin nose, it was pretty rank.

As I had mentioned, I wasn’t working EMS yet.  Hell, I wasn’t even a parent yet.  So the rule about breathing through ones mouth had not been introduced to me at that point.

The first inhale told me that something was dead.  And in the truck.

The second sniff told me that whatever it was  had been dead for weeks.  Having a weak stomach, a VERY weak stomach, I instantly vomited.  Into my mouth.

Very classy, yeah?

What the HELL is that smell????  Jesus, did that come from HIM?

The giggle that he was trying to hide gave him away instantly.  That bastard.

I frantically tried to roll down the window to get rid of the bile in my mouth when I couldn’t take it any more.  I spit out the window, but missed.  Vomit covered the interior of the window and the passenger side door.

Ewww. Yeah, I know.

He wasn’t impressed either.  He spent half an hour cleaning out the truck when we finally managed to pull over.

And he never did it again :)