If you'd told me that on our honeymoon I'd be watching my wife shit on the toilet whilst I fought the urge to vomit, then I would have laughed in your face.
But that's exactly what happened.
Instead of having hot, passionate sex in the shower, she sat inside it with her clothes on and put her head in her hands. I crossed my arms in solidarity.
My beautiful bride had been reduced to a dirty damsel in distress.
When I thought we would be saying sweet nothings, we sat in that bathroom in silence whilst I forced the bile to stay down.
Remind me to ruin the caterer who thought it was a good idea to give us food poisoning on our wedding night.
I never thought I would have to live by my vows so quickly.
But I knew that being in this shitty bathroom with her was better than being alone. I loved her.
Even when she ran to the loo for the fifth time cursing "that fucking cunt of a caterer who screwed my wallet and my arse!"
I followed her inside and she started to cry out of frustration as she once again emptied her insides. I sat down next to her (from a safe distance) and reached my hand out for hers.
She looked at my hand, she looked at my earnest face, then she smiled. God she had a gorgeous smile!
She took my hand in hers as she suffered through the pain, and I resisted the urge to vomit.
Focus on her touch.
She needs you. In sickness and in health.
The irony of the situation made me laugh out loud and I caught my wife's eye we couldn't help but guffaw like banshees.
I looked at her, and leaned in to kiss her.
And promptly vomited on the bathroom floor.
At least it would be a great story for the grandkids!