Last summer the Tribe Called Hall went to the fair. Well, several fairs actually. I decided long ago not to be a wussy mom. I was not going to sit on the bench, watching her kids enjoy the rides. Waving and being wussy. No, no! I was going to go on every ride.
This is despite the fact that I get nauseous swinging on a swing set. And even the Ferris wheel make me queasy. So yeah, I got on the tilt-a-whirl determined to just suck it up and power through. Because I love my kids!
Longest five minutes of my life.
I ralphed in a trash bin after the ride. Really loudly. The kids thought it was funny.
Then I sat on a park bench with my head between my knees. Then Mr. Hall gently fed me salty popcorn. One piece at a time. Took a good 20 minutes for my vertical hold to solidify the ground in one place.
Which brings me to yesterday. I tried putting together a gas grill.
I am not a handy woman. Yet, I was determined to put it together. I layed out all the parts, studied the manual and got through step 5. Only there was something wrong. I couldn't get to step six.
I retraced my steps. I restudied the manual. I looked over the parts. It just wasn't jelling. Then I got flustered and didn't want to ask for help. Cause I didn't want to be one of those wives that is helpless. So stared at the manual, then at the grill. Then at the manual. I couldn't start step six cause it the picture in the manual didn't match THE DANG THING IN FRONT OF ME.
So I stared some more.
For 35 minutes.
Then I felt a migraine rip through the right side of my head.
My vision got blurry and I thought I was going to pass out.