Last night my Dad, Grandmother, and Aunt came over for dinner. One of the best things about having my own place is that I can invite people over and not have to worry about having enough room or what my roommate's (read: Mom's) plans are. We had a really great time last night, joking around and sharing stories about my dad's home improvement mishaps. I think my favorite was him describing the "dance of death." It involved electrocution and a hedge trimmer. That is all I will say. This morning my Aunt emailed me and asked me if I was feeling alright because she and my grandmother had been up all night sick from the pizza I got from Pizza Hut for them. And no, for once my tummy was fine. Then my Dad called me to ask if I was sick since he had gotten sick too.
HAS THE WORLD TILTED OFF ITS AXIS?? I am never the one who doesn't get sick! I'm always the one who gets sick! Has my stomach finally learned to resist food poisoning?? Is the beginning of a new culinary world for Maggie? Y'all this is really exciting.
Except now I feel bad for feeding my family evil poisonous pizza. And I feel doubly bad for not having gotten sick. But, still. I didn't get sick!!