I’m going to try to keep this as uh…delicate as I can put it. But if you don’t like to read about gross things, stop reading now.

OK. Shane and I went to a Mexican restaurant for dinner today. I thought tacos, refried beans and Mexican rice sounded absolutely delicious, and that’s what I ordered: The #10 on the menu.

We noshed on some free chips and salsa. That was ok–the chips were slightly stale and the salsa seemed a tad ketchup-y, but it was fine.

Our meal came, and it tasted good. I had a few bites of everything, then I suddenly excused myself to go to the restroom.

I’m glad it was empty in there.

I was sick. Both ends. Did NOT feel good. Fortunately for everyone, there was a trash can in the stall, and I was able to grab it and put it to use.

My body got rid of everything I had recently consumed. Yuck!

I was disturbed when I went to wash my hands that there was no soap in the dispenser. Made me wonder if I had come in contact with someone’s icky germs!

I went back to the table and told Shane that I would not be finishing my meal. He was finished eating and I went and sat in the car while he paid the bill.

He didn’t get sick, so it makes me think this was a baby-related barf.

Maybe my body rejected a particular spice or something. At any rate, it did NOT want to digest what I had eaten!

I don’t think we’ll be eating there again for awhile.