Tums to the Rescue

You know you’ve had a rough night when you wake up in the morning with a hangover, there is a half eaten loaf of bread in the kitchen and there is a trail of Tums bisecting the house. This was exactly the state that the house and I were in two weekends ago. At first I could not remember what exactly happened, but as I stood in the hallway a shadowy memory of the night before began to take shape.

I had had a little too much to drink and like clockwork, I awoke at 3:30am struggling to swallow the acid in my throat. I went directly to the medicine cabinet and took out the family size bottle of Tums I have kept on hand for the last year. I chewed one, then another and went back to bed. 30 minutes later I was up again, this time choking down the acid and the foaming Tums from before. Something was going to have to be done. I needed water, a little bread and more Tums. I stumbled sleepily from the bathroom to the kitchen. Tipping back my head, and stretching my mouth open wide, I shook the bottle of Tums urgently towards my acid scorched throat. Like delicious sweet tarts of relief, the Tums seemed to leap from the bottle, dropping into my mouth and bouncing off my face, skittering across the floor. Chewing was difficult as the chalky medicine got stuck in my teeth and turned my tongue thick and white but I persevered. With a glass of water in hand and a masticated piece of bread left behind on the kitchen counter I lurched back into bed to sleep it off.

God bless the Tums.