A Case of Bad Luck

My brother feels as though he is unlucky. The epitome of his unfortunate bad luck came just a few days ago on his 30th birthday. Mind you, this was days after getting five stitches removed from his forehead. Out to a nice dinner, he ordered the veal marsala. A solid choice, if you are going to eat baby cow. But poor Nick was brought out the veal parmigiana. When he told the waitress, she apologized but did not offer to get him the correct order or to compensate him for the mistake. Just his luck.

Then, I realized, that while Nick complains about bad luck and I don't, I may actually have a dose of it right now. Having woken up super early on this Saturday, I needed to take Shea out for a nice run and romp. I did this in blistering six degree weather, simply because I love that dammed dog. It was certainly bad luck that on this Saturday that I was required to get up early, that it would be, by far, the coldest day. 

The earliness came into play because a friend asked me to watch her little girl in the morning while she had a doctor's appointment. Of course, that wasn't a problem and I was happy to do it. Little Leah and Shea were getting along just peachy. So well, that one would almost think I was having good luck.

After playing with Shea and becoming best buddies, Leah had a little snack. Some yummy strawberry yogurt. A few moments later Leah began to cry for no apparent reason. I quickly went over to her to see what was wrong and picked her up. As soon as her feet left the ground, she vomited all over myself and the floor beneath her. With a pinkish color, there was an eerie smell of rotten strawberry yogurt filling the room. Shea, asleep on the couch at the time, did what I wished I could have, and ran upstairs. After a short bought of throwing up, Leah wanted some more strawberry yogurt. Must have been that appetizing smell. She was fine, wanting to eat and play just moments after. I, on the other hand, am sick with a bad case of bad luck!