Le Bébé de la Nourriture Strikes Again

Last night, Boyfriend and I hung out. He had to pick up some last minute items for the trip he's leaving on today (MD, I hope you're not reading this because I bet leaving on is poor grammar), so since we already we were "oot and aboot" he offered to take me out to dinner (well, take us out to dinner - he's not just going to sit there and watch me eat!).

He surprised me by picking a restaurant we hadn't been to yet - Artie's - which is part of the whole Great American Restaurants chain (like the oh-so-delicious Sweetwater I've mentioned before). I got the fish special which involved flounder, wrapped in a thin potato shell, stuffed with crab and spinach. Holy crap. It was a Seafood Stuffed with More Seafood monstrosity the size of a frickin' burrito from Chipotle - which is to say, probably weighed about 5 lbs.

It was very good, of course, but by the end of the dish (which had been coupled with a bottle of wine, as Boyfriend felt bad about Yesterday's Events (damn coppers, how's that wine going with your doughnuts?) and heck, you can't have a nice light fish meal without a matching white) - I felt like I might explode.

Sidenote: Only awful part about dinner? The message on the front page of the menu where the alcohol is listed. It said that they would card anyone who was under the age of 26. If they forget, you get a free dessert. I am now 26. I will never get another free dessert if they forget to card me. In fact, they don't even have to card me anymore.
Goddammnit, that made me feel old.

And then The Dessert Devil possessed us and Boyfriend said "You can get your creme brulee - I'm getting the Deep Dish Apple Pecan Pie" and BAM - they had been ordered and I was excited but worried that this Food Baby was going to bust right out of my gut and start running around the restaurant biting people's ankles. I'm picturing the scene from Alien, but do NOT look at that picture if you get easily grossed out. *shudder*

Not long after we got back to Boyfriend's house, the Food Baby starting kicking my insides. I felt more full than after a Thanksgiving meal. I am not someone who throws up, but I honestly felt like it was a strong possibility. I think I went into a Food Coma. Nice end to our last evening, huh? Me, laying in bed, hardly able to will myself to speak.

Boyfriend: "Can I get you anything??"

Me: "Unngghhhhh..."

Boyfriend: "I'll get you some water."

Thankfully, I'm much better this morning. I don't know what the hell happened, but folks, heed my warning: Do not eat the fish special plus creme brulee plus drink 2 glasses of Pinot Grigio at Artie's or you may die. Just warning you.