They say a really bad memory is something that never leaves you. The visceral aspects of it lodge itself into the deep recesses of your subconscious mind where those experiences are forever stored in your memory. Sometimes, out of nowhere, that unpleasant thought rudely interrupts an otherwise benign moment, triggered by some chance incident.
That was me on this day. The bad memory hit me like a ton of bricks and took me back to having the worst possible case of stomach flu about eight years ago - me along with my three young boys. It also happened to be at a time when my wife was traveling on a business trip to Chicago and probably at the time was enjoying a dirty martini with her colleagues.
One minute we were watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on the television and the next, my four-year -old son and I were simultaneously running to the toilets in my house. The two-year old twins - well, I probably went through eight sets of soiled diapers before I knew we had reached DEFCON 4 and it was time to rush to an urgent care as soon as possible
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