Love and Indigestion

I knew it was love, right after I knew it was indigestion. Husband and I hadn’t been dating long, maybe just a few months, but it was long enough for him to already know about my stomach troubles. (The great irony of my life is that I have a ferocious appetite and a strong love of food, but also a very weak stomach.) He first learned of my stomach woes earlier in our relationship on the night he made me an elaborate dinner. The meal included steak, shrimp, baked potatoes, and probably a dessert. It was such a delicious dinner, and I was so touched that he went to the trouble to make it. But afterwards, I just felt terrible. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so I tried (unsuccessfully) to hide my stomach pains. Once he figured it out, he asked what he could do. “Do you have any Tums?” I asked. Husband went on a frantic quest, opening up closets and cabinets, desperate to turn up the medicine that might cure my ills. Despite his best efforts in looking, it turned out that he didn’t have any. I politely excused myself soon after and left his house. (And I probably spent the rest of the evening moaning and clutching my stomach in my own house.) A few weeks later, we had gone out to eat at a nice restaurant. On the car ride home, my stomach started feeling upset. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him. “Oh, no need to worry. I have these for you,” he said. He reached over and opened up his glove compartment, and there was a brand new bottle of Tums. Just for me. He handed me the bottle and smiled. Just then I knew it was love. From the bottom of my heart – and stomach.