Ridiculously I had thought I was going to exercise restraint on Christmas Day. There are always tins of Quality Street and loads of other sweets and I hoped that maybe this year, what with my new found maturity in going to church (ignore the bit where I pointed out rude words and fell asleep) that I might be able to have one or two sweets and then leave it at that. But I spent the whole of Christmas stuffing my face with sweets and drinking wine (I had fallen asleep in the afternoon) and overdone it more than ever before. What's wrong with me?
Payback came at 3am where I woke up feeling discombobulated and pretty rough. There must have been a bad nut in the three quarters of a tin of Quality Street I'd eaten. Just my luck. I had a tummy ache. When did I last have a tummy ache? Not for over a quarter of a century. It's called a tummy ache because only children are meant to get it. Why had I eaten all those sweets? Even though I had felt bad going to bed I had taken another handful of liquorice allsorts. My blood must be pure sugar. No wonder I felt awful.
It was so unpleasant that I thought about going into mum and dad's room and saying "I have a tummy ache. Can I sleep in your bed?" but what was appropriate in 1976 not so in 2011. Though it had been lovely sleeping with my parents back then. Coming back in the car from church last night I had felt like sleeping and remembered how when I was under 10 my dad would sometimes carry me in from the car if I fell asleep. I think I recall once even pretending to be asleep so my dad would have to carry me in. That's how safe and loved it made me feel. I quite wanted to do that again, but not sure he could have managed it now. And there's a danger he'd get into some kind of road rage incident.
As I sat on the loo wishing for the pain to be over, the rest of the house slept on. I could hear an owl hooting in the distance. Perhaps he could hear a human hooting at the same time. I was in an awful place. Maybe some more liquorice allsorts would cure me. Who'd have thought pure gluttony could have got me into this state of affairs. Jesus must have been pleased with me. Eating and drinking until I made myself unwell. I bet he laughed when I pointed out the word "asses" in church at least.
I managed to get back to sleep eventually and felt well enough to have a couple of Quality Street for breakfast. I would have loved to have a day of eating nothing but plain rice, but we had to drive across the country for Christmas dinner number two at my girlfriend's parents house. Her gran had bought me a tin of Roses. I felt pretty certain that I would die today. And to be honest I might have. Happy Sickmas.
