© 2010 Aaron Atkinson

Ironic Indigestion

While I was away on a recent business trip, Laura stayed at my house and took care of Indie. Unfortunately, Indie came down with a bug and Laura came home to quite a mess on the floor. She was telling me about it while I was in the airport waiting to catch a flight home. My plane was delayed and I was standing in a crowd of my fellow strandees.

Laura: Indie is sick. I came home today to a mess all over the hardwood floor.

Me: What did she do? Throw up?

Laura: No. Worse. Way worse. She had diarrhea. There are paw prints all over the place.

Me: Oh no, not diarrhea!

At that, the crowd around me silenced and a pair of attractive Johnson County housewives gave me a disgusted look.


A few minutes later we boarded our Southwest flight home. The plane was nearly full and with an empty middle seat to my right, I was beginning to think it might be my lucky day.

Moments later I made eye contact with a last-minute, standby passenger as she nudged into my neighboring seat.

I smiled habitually and recognized her at the same moment she recognized me.

She gave me another disgusted look.

Me: Whoompf (I sighed, in mock peril). You wouldn’t happen to have any Pepto, would you?

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