What, Karma?

This past weekend was the Highland Games. We wait for this event all year long. This is our Christmas, Rosh Hashanna, Halloween and Superbowl all rolled into one. So, I shouldn't have been surprised when Delta went on without me after Phee-Phee and Oscar came down with croup. After a day and a night on prednisone, the girls were given the green light to travel so we headed up to NH to join Delta. Everything seemed fine.Until I woke up to the ominous sound of a pig rutting in my blankets. Fortunately it was just Oscar. Unfortunately the rutting sound was a portent of things to follow, quite literally. Seconds after I identified the sound , buckets of meatball red vomit soaked through my fleece pajamas and onto my skin beneath. Oscar was like a fondue fountain, the puke just kept coming. And even after I'd changed our pajamas and our sheets and walked her to the bathroom to brush her little fangs, I couldn't shake the queasy feeling I'd gotten when I tried to pull my shirt over my head. I managed to fall back asleep but when I woke up I was still queasy. I thought about going home, but DElta convinced me to stay. My stomacheache grew worse as the morning progressed. The two mimosa's our friend Jay the Scott brought over did not do anything to abate the pain. A long, hot, 75 cent shower did nothing to improve my mood. Finally, I stood in the doorway of the public restroom, beseeching the heaven's to send me a sign and suddenly a great rolling wave of thunder answered me. If you were to record the sound the thunder made and play it back at a much higher speed, you would clearly hear "Didi - go home - you are sick" but I had no recording equipment so I missed the message and stayed.
"You can go," said Delta, "And bring the camper back with you."
I know what you're thinking, "Whatchou talkin bout, Delta?" right?
Me too. But so strong was the feeling that he knew something I didn't and that if I left I would miss out on that something, that I stayed despite my churning digestive tract. By the time I rolled into my driveway last night and dragged my ass into bed, kilt and all, my fever was at 102. I drifted off to sleep (After Desperate Housewives of course) promising Karma that next time I'll listen and just stay home.