Here in the Keller household, we really dig our siblings. Jon and I were so excited to marry into one another’s families, as it meant that he would now have a brother, and I would now have sisters, respectively. Not to mention, they are incredibly intelligent people, gifted at so many things in entirely different ways. Not only are they our younger siblings, but they’re our friends, too. Suzanne, Jake, & Christina, we love you. We can’t wait to make you Aunts and Uncle this November.
They also make us laugh.
Today I met Jake for lunch, as we do every week this summer, at our favorite Asian restaurant. It’s great for a few reasons, if only for its perplexing name: 98 Pounds Buffet. Is it a reference to 98th street, their address? Is that how much food you can eat before they ask you to leave? Who knows. We just know it’s good, and the punch card loyalty system means we get a free lunch every 10th time we go. 98 Pounds never disappoints. Until today.
About an hour after getting back from our lunch–in which Jake was particularly hilarious–I get a text from him, creatively informing me that he has food poisoning, but not in so many words. (He made a play on the name 98 Pounds; use your imagination.) We ate essentially the same thing at lunch. I’m stricken: will I be next? How soon will I know? What’s food poisoning like? What will this do to a pregnant lady? How do I prepare myself for what is certainly about to hit?
Then I get another text: he was just kidding.