Keith caught it.
Friday afternoon, I received a phone call from a dear friend. Once a year we have a sweet get together. A slumber party. My friend called me to ask if I could come join everyone that night.
Not a lot of notice.
I was very excited.
As I was preparing to go, Keith ran into the bathroom, made coughing noises, and then slowly walked out, his golden hair hanging over his pale downcast face.
One look at him, and it was evident he was not feeling well.
I then realized chances of me getting to go to the reunion with my friends had suddenly shrunk to minuscule sizes. Jeffrey still has lots of homework, and him being sick last Monday and Tuesday had really hurt his homework time. If I left, it would be harder for him to get the studying in that he needed.
However, when Jeffrey saw me unpacking my things, he took my hand and told me if Keith was okay with it, it would be alright for me to still go.
I love that man.
Keith gladly gave the okay, and soon enough I was on my way.
After an hour and a half drive (sigh) I arrived.
It was glorious. So much fun to see those beautiful women. To get caught up with their lives, and make new memories.
Unfortunately, half way through the night, the luck of the draw hit me.
I began feeling very queasy. My head hurt, and my body ached.
By early morning the contents of my stomach banded together in the form of a revolution.
I left much earlier than I had anticipated. The hour and a half drive seemed to stretch into a three hour drive.
Yet I am still so glad I went. The friendships we formed six years ago will last through the eternities. Of that I am sure.