Honeymoon's Over aka Don't eat Cinnabons, Ever.
It all started with a Cinnabon at the Charlotte Airport. I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t had one in probably 15 years, and the novelty of it got the best of me. As I ate my ooey, gooey pile of cinnamon, frosting, and barely cooked dough, I offered Lonnie a bite, which he accepted, and then immediately regretted and said, “You are going to regret eating that thing. That is disgusting. You are going to be a mess and be whining to me any minute that you don’t feel well.” I rolled my eyes. After our snack, we headed to the gate to wait for our plane. Panic ensued as we realized that our phones were still on Mexico time and had our flight not been delayed, we would have missed it. Even with the delay, we just made it in before they shut the doors. I think the panic and adrenaline from that was the next nail in my coffin. Next nail… we sat idling on the tarmac for a loooooong time. As I sat there feeling the plane rumble and idle, my stomach began to do the same. I was uncomfor