Yo, Adrian!

Well, unfortunately, my Thanksgiving weekend was overshadowed by a general feeling of nausea and some pretty awesome stomach cramping that lasted from Wednesday morning to Saturday afternoon.  I think it was a case of food poisoning from a hot dog that I ate at the movie theater on Tuesday night.  Since I woke up feeling nauseated on Wednesday morning and want to throw up every time I think of hot dogs, I think my theory makes sense.  My sisters think food poisoning wouldn't have lasted all weekend so they think that I was dealing with a stomach bug of sorts.  My mom, ever cautious and hestitant to make rash conclusions, thinks I was suffering from massive organ failure.

Agree to disagree, Mom.

So I wasn't able to really enjoy the TASTE of my mom's delicious turkey and dressing.  I mean, I ate some but it just doesn't taste the same when you're concentrating on not puking it all up, you know?  So I spent Thanksgiving being thankful that I could at least enjoy the SMELL of my mom's great cooking.  It stinks that I missed out on all the yummies but no biggie, right?  It's not like Thanksgiving only comes around once a year or anything . . . 

Stupid hot dog.

ANYWAY, I thought I'd tell you about a classic Nora moment from this weekend.  We were talking about the new Mission Impossible movie coming out soon and this is how that conversation unfolded:

Erin: Matt hasn't seen ANY of the Mission Impossible movies.  So I'm thinking that it might be fun to have a Mission Impossible marathon before the next one comes out.
Tammy: I'm in!
Me: [to Matt] You haven't seen ANY of them??
Matt: Nope.  Not one.
Mom: Wow! 
Erin: I know!
Mom: Well, I guess I get that.  I've never seen any of the Rocky movies.
All: WHAT??
Tammy: You've never seen ANY of them??
Mom: Nope.
Erin: That's unacceptable.
Mom: I know!  But I know all the famous lines from them.
Me: [Oh, this should be good . . .]
Mom: You know, like "Heeeeeeey, Sylviaaaaaa!"
[stunned silence followed by silent, hysterical laughter]
Matt: Wow.  She needs to leave.  Or I need to leave.  Either way, somebody's leaving.

So, needless to say, we are going to schedule a Rocky marathon, STAT. 

Before she embarrasses us all by calling Rocky the Italian Mustang or something . . .