Years ago before my now brother-in-law (a fine upstanding law enforcement officer of high rank) married my sister, he won us over one Thanksgiving with his suggestion that when we over ate we should put a feather down our throats and, uh, regurgitate, like the Romans did. We howled at this as he attempted to convince us of the existence of a vomitorium.
We’ve laughed ourselves silly over this idea repeatedly since, my husband even going so far once as to pull out feathers for all at the table after one particular feast (with Greeks and Italians, we have a lot of them).
I recently found out that the whole thing is a myth (bummer), but have always enjoyed visions of Romans in togas lying about in over-indulged stupors, waiving their feathers about while awaiting the next course.
So, this morning when I opened Facebook and found the following picture with the caption, “vomitorium at Target,” I was overcome with giggles.