Last night I ate my dinner laying  in the floor. No I wasn’t in trouble and regulated to the dog house, it was the only way I could comfortably enjoy my meal in the same room as my family.

As some of you know, I have chronic back trouble from an injury in my early twenties. You know, back when I had big biceps, big shoulders, an even bigger ego but not such a big stomach.  Over the weekend I had a major relapse, probably the worst my back has been since my most recent surgery six years ago.  Finding a place/position of comfort is next to impossible when you have a disc bulging and pressing on nerve roots.

Tabitha (aka @unsung_0ne aka The Beautiful Bride) took time to grill us steak with  portabella mushrooms and a throw together a fantastic homemade mac and cheese. A perfect dinner for us all to pull up to the table and enjoy with a few candles lit in the center piece, just to celebrate that we have the time to sit down and eat together during the week. This was such a luxury, until I tried to sit at the table.

I came into the dinning room, with mouth watering over the beautiful meal that awaited.  As I sat at the table that all too familiar feeling of electricity rushing down my leg and muscle spasms began. I tried several different positions in the chair to no avail. It was not in the cards for me to sit at the table and have my meal.

Rather than ruin the effort the beautiful bride put forth in making this lovely dinner, I laid down on the floor and adjusted until I could find a position of relief and had her hand my plate down to me. Our dinner,a little confusing to Max,  continued on with me eating from the floor as they ate from the table.

Of course this was not the ideal way to share a family dinner, but we did manage to have a dinner that was not rushed. A dinner that we could actually have time to have conversation, something that is too often missed during the week because of the hectic schedules we are under. So I was very content to eat my dinner from the floor.

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