What I Learned Not to Share

     I had a stomach bug this week. I kinda like those days, when you sit in the recliner in front of TV while work piles up and you just don’t care. I missed my Saturday blog. But I remembered a great story about NOT sharing everything. 

     I wanted to put on a perfect party for the family. It was Margaret’s birthday, (3^rd maybe?). I invited my Uncle Orin, Aunt Bobby and my cousin Bill, my parents and tons of relatives. I had a table that could seat twenty-two and I remember how perfectly the table was set. I wanted the table to be beautiful   because you saw it first as you walked in the door where we used to live.

     I used the Noritake, and the good tablecloth given to me by Rachel Prevost for my wedding. I always loved Rachel’s house. I thought that tablecloth was extra beautiful. 

     So, the table was set and everything was shiny and perfect. The family was chatting in the living room as I got the children ready for the party. Margaret wore her new dress, and, as I lifted her to put her in her high chair, she had diarrhea all over my new shoes her and beautiful dress. 

    My whole family had been sick the week before it, but I thought everybody was over the stomach flu.

I remember that Bill Jaquish was the only one in the room. He turned green and hightailed it back to living room as I cleaned us up. Then we all sat down to dinner. 

    The dinner was lovely and the family had a good time. Only most of the guests--especially Orin’s family—had stomach cramps and diarrhea later that week. 

    Some things you just should not share.