My Brain and I have a tenuous relationship on most days, and Fathers Day was no exception.
For a few weeks, I had been in contact with my sister and mother-in-law, helping them plan a Fathers Day breakfast for the guys.
{My boys with their boats on the St. Croix River}
It should have gone off without a hitch. And then I woke up… on Fathers Day morning… with a massive migraine.
I woke up, crying and slobbering all over MC, who had been sleeping peacefully up until that point. He knows the drill, and went off in search of an ice pack and migraine medicine.
{First game at Target Field, the new MN Twins stadium}
But it’s Fathers Day, and I am supposed to be helping cook up an awesome breakfast for the guys. Instead, I can barely open my eyes and lay shaking in my in-laws basement. I had taken the migraine medicine, and now I can think a little. And I am ticked. Stupid Brain! Why would you pull this on Fathers Day?!?
Mother-in-law and Sister-in-law cook up a delicious meal and we head home. Where MC tucks me into bed after giving me another migraine pill. At some point later in the day, I wake up, headacheless but feeling completely drugged and loopy.
{Hiking in Wisconsin}
I come downstairs to MC preparing to cook his Fathers Day supper. I offer to help several times, but end up wandering aimlessly around the house instead. Finally I pull it together enough to tell him, ‘No way you’re doing this yourself. I’m grilling the burgers and brat thingys.’
It only occurs to me as I’m lighting it that I haven’t actually cooked anything on a grill since 1995.
The rest of the evening is a blur except for the key points of 1. I didn’t burn or otherwise ruin the brats and burgers and 2. I took a shower.
Although I didn’t get to do any of the things I planned to do for Fathers Day, I hope MC knows how much I love and appreciate how much he does for me and the kids.
And if my Brain ever tries to pull a stunt like that again, we’re going to have a serious discussion…
