It’s A Bad Thing To Make Rash Decisions

| Related | March 5, 2012

(I have a relatively severe peanut allergy. I puff up and get itchy when I eat peanuts. Earlier in my life, I would just turn red and get a stomach ache. My mom insisted on feeding me peanuts at this time so I would build up an immunity, which my grandmother was somehow able to do with shellfish. I come across a chocolate turtle that I don’t know has peanuts inside. I take a bite, realize, spit it out, and then run to my mom.)

Me: “Mom, I ate peanuts.”

Mom: “Good for you! I didn’t have to tell you this time!”

Me: “But, mom, I feel funny.”

Mom: “You’ll be fine, honey.”

Me: “But mom, I’m not turning red but I still feel funny.”

Mom: “That may mean that you finally built up an immunity! It’s past your bedtime. Go to bed, honey.”

Me: *sadly* “Yes, mom.”

(I lie in bed for about an hour, when I get extremely itchy. I notice I have welts all over me. I come downstairs to my dad.)

Me: *groggily* “Dad?”

Dad: *sees me* “Argh! OH, MY GOD!”

Me: “Daddy, I feel funny.”

Dad: “No kidding!”

Mom: *comes out* “What’s with all the screaming?” *sees me* “OH, MY GOD!”

Me: “Mommy, I told you I feel funny.”

Dad: “He looks like The Thing!”

(The next day, my mom apologizes for not believing me…)

Me: “It’s okay. I love you.”

Mom: “I love you, too.” *pauses* “But you really did look like The Thing.”

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