Food Poisoning 1, Husband 0

The husband calls from work Thursday afternoon, says he's not feelin' so hot. Does he want to be picked up? Nope. He says he's pedaling home.

When he gets home, way later than usual, he says he went about 10 miles per hour (slow) the whole way home, and promptly goes to the bathroom to puke, and puke, and shit and puke some more.

After a torturous night, he does look a damn sight slimmer this morning. What great lengths for our little contest!