Dinner Gone Bad
This is the post that’s probably going to stop people from accepting invitations to dinner at our place. Which is unfortunate because we’re good cooks and hosts.
My wife and I like to entertain guests at our home. It was something we did a lot more of before the little one. Just like we saw more movies, went to more restaurants, and had more friends.
Anyhow, we still entertain. Occasionally.
On one such occasion, we invited over my family; my parents and my sister and brother-in-law for dinner.
They showed up early to play with the reason we don’t host as many dinner parties anymore, our daughter. To set up the unfortunate ending to this story, you need to know that my daughter was recovering from another daycare disease that week. She was all better. But she’d been sick. Remember that.
I’d spent most of the afternoon preparing dinner. Getting my mis-en-place ready, re-reading recipes, and pretending I had what it takes to be the Next Food Network Star. The Next Food Network Star, by the way, is the worst show on the Food Network.
Half-way through the afternoon, I commented to my wife that I felt a little off. Not sick, per se, more tired. We both brushed it off as toddler-induced exhaustion.
My family showed up as planned and we continued our evening. Dinner was cooked, plated and prepared by yours truly. I took one or two bites of dinner before it hit me, waves of nausea. It was not good.
I kindly excused myself from the table and went upstairs to lie down. Lying down quickly became, well, what’s a polite way to say “yakking my guts out?” Probably not that phrasing, but you get the idea.
Whatever toddler gastrointestinal virus my daughter contracted from daycare had been passed on. I think what I had was called, Dinner Party Ending Disease because the dinner party was quickly over.
My sister later informed me that as they were leaving they could hear me getting sick upstairs. I imagine it doesn’t get worse than that, hearing the person who had spent the day preparing your food getting violently ill as you’re leaving.
She also informed me that my brother-in-law was almost felled by the toddler virus when he made a motion to finish my unfinished beer. He changed his mind after everyone urged him not to.
I spent the rest of the weekend in bed. My wife joined me when she became ill the next morning. We had to call my “hopefully not about to be sick from the dinner the night before” parents to come and look after our daughter. We were in no shape to do so.
Thankfully, thankfully, thankfully, our dinner guests never became ill. It was a testament to my rigorous hand-washing during food prep skills or to their superior immune systems. They’ve even come back to eat at our house since. Though for some reason, they always offer to bring food.