Lady, this isn't what it looks like...

*Ahem.*

Today, my body said "Hey! It's getting too quiet around here. I'm gonna feel like crap for no reason at all! MWAHAHAHAHAHA!!" My stomach was doing a conga dance, my head had a wind-up-cymbal monkey inside, and my eyes had balloons inflating behind them. I tried to brave this all the way through church, until finally I could bear it no longer. I hunted down my mother, got on my knees, and begged her to take me home. "I can't, I'm sorry," she said. I hung my head in agony. "Here, take this to the kitchen and get a glass of water." She reached inside her purse, pulled out a Tangerine Emergen-c packet, and thrust it under my nose. I balked and gagged (Emergen-c=The Devil's Juice. It is akin to drinking a combination of club soda and perfume. Except worse). She bribed me with a Werther's Original. I went to the kitchen, Emergen-C packet in hand. Once there, I raided all the cupboards and could find nothing but some tupperware and a bottle of whipped cream (expired, gosh dang it). I took out the smallest tupperware I could find, filled up my cup, and poured the packet in. The water quickly yellowed and fizzed ominously. My nose wrinkled in disgust. It looked like...well...how can I say this politely...urine. I closed my eyes and said "Werther's Original, Werther's Original" like a mantra before taking a big 'ol swig. I'll spare you the gagging and heaving that followed...sufice it to say, it was not my cup of tea. I kept sipping away, praying for the end, when a woman walked in the kitchen door. She looked at me, then at the tupperware of yellow fluid in my hand. Her mouth opened slightly. I looked from her face to the tupperware. "Oh. Oh, no." I thought. But I didn't try to explain. I simply said "Uh...Hello!" and continued to sip the conspicuous beverage. The woman looked away, grabbed a pitcher, and filled it up at the sink, avoiding my eye. She shuffled out as quickly as she could once the pitcher was full, almost forgetting to shut off the water. I watched her go, still not saying a thing. I polished off as much of the drink as I could muster before returning to Mother and reciving my much deserved Werther's.

That poor woman...she'll think of me every time she passes a kitchen. Or a bathroom.

Moral of the story: Things are not always what they seem.

Or

Don't ever drink Tangerine Emergen-c where anyone can see you. Ever. Better yet, don't drink it at all.