When we were in California on our Magic Kingdom trip, we went to Mother’s humble abode later that evening. She wanted us to eat dinner with her but we made every excuse we could think of so we would not get food poisoning.
She had made chicken and dressing earlier in the day and it was out on the table. Sitting there, festering in its own juices.
I asked several questions about the food.
Had it been refrigerated?
How long had it been out?
When did she prepare it?
She answered the questions correctly according to hygiene and cleanliness. Well, as much as she was able to considering her standards were quite low.
I should have known better.
For some reason, I put several forkfuls of dressing into my mouth. Thankfully, my sister and daughter refused to eat one bite.
When we returned to our hotel, I began what could only be called projectile vomiting, obviously suffering from botulism. I thought I would have to spend time in the Emergency Room but finally quit throwing up in the wee hours of the morning. It was but another failure to communicate. Our mother did not understand that we were on vacation and a trip to the hospital was not on our itinerary.