Late night trips to the bodega

Jen and I arrived home all happy and fully of Christmas and birthday cheer. We had a lovely time in Kansas City. I was especially pleased to have my very own stocking hanging off the fireplace at Jen's parent's new house.

The birthday party for Gigi was wonderful, and included several great family photos. We printed some out the following day and framed them so Gigi now has far more family photos around her home than she ever imagined possible.

Unfortunately, by yesterday morning we all began to feel a little funny. I noticed that I wasn't on top of my game while traveling to work. I didn't have that usual spring in my step. By noon, I wasn't feeling in great shape, and by 2pm I was really sick. I got a call at work informing me that the entire family was now sick. Jen's sister and her fiancee had to call in to work. Jen's father wasn't good either, and Gigi had spent the entire night up sick.

It wasn't pretty, and I'll spare you more details except to say that getting from the Upper West Side to Greenpoint while in the throws of the flu was a serious challenge. I'm grateful that the MTA installed additional garbage cans at the Times Square Station.

The day has pretty much been a blur. I managed to get up to move the car in time to avoid getting a ticket, then retreated to bed until 3 in the afternoon. Finally at about 9pm tonight Jen decided that she really needed a sandwich. While I wasn't quite ready for roast beef on whole wheat, I offered to go pick up some dinner. I had hoped that the "God Bless Deli" Muslim bodega with the giant American flag on the awning would deliver. They're only two blocks away, and they really do make a mean roast beef and cheese. Unfortunately, even after searching through what seemed to be 20 similarly named delis in Brooklyn, we learned there was no delivery service.

needless to say, I do not look good tonight. I'm wearing flannel pants and an old college sweatshirt. My hair makes me look like a fuzzy gopher, and I haven't showered in two days. But it was late, and I figured that no one would see me. The least I could do would be to get Jen some dinner. So, I tossed on my puffy winter coat, grabbed the house keys and took off to visit the "God Bless."

I knew it wasn't going to be a good show when immediately upon entering the guy at the counter said, "hey pastor." Just before I started to order, a big fellow saddled up to me, put his arm around me and said, "Merry Christmas." I turned around to find one of the guys from our AA group that meets on Saturday. Then, the final insult - one of the kids from the Episcopal Church walks in. This is the kid who thinks he might want to be a priest some day. Added to it, he's got two of his friends with him, one whom I had argued with this past fall over hitting cars with his football.

I looked like a total schmuck, but wanted to look at the kid and say "see, even pastors get the flu." Instead, I just took my sandwich and ran back home.