As an adult I can count on my one hand the times I have had a run-in with a peanut. Even my four-year-old sees a random peanut shell that a squirrel has left in our yard and is on instant mommy duty. As a mom, I buy and read all grocery labels, as a woman I choose all restaurants that I go to, and really, as an adult I can throw off the guilt and say no to a dessert, and even leave if need be. There are still those who are unaware that the allergy lies amongst the adults and not just the children. Bryan and I have been to wine and cheese’s that serve desserts with nuts, and we discretely leave. The hosts don’t necessarily need to know what could have been. There are restaurants changing their menus so often now that I have the freedom to go to different places than I would have dreamed. I celebrated my 34th birthday in a restaurant that used to have peanuts in piles on the floor and bar. A local ice cream shop recently changed to be peanut-free. A whole new world is being opened up to me.
So, it was ironic that one night when Bryan and I went to bed, I should break out in hives on my face and neck wherever he kissed me. An affair to remember indeed. The conversation went as follows:
Me: (scratching) What did you eat today? (I go to the bathroom, and wash my hands, face and neck) Go get the Benadryl.
Him: (Coming from downstairs, Benadryl in his hand) I may have eaten something with peanut butter in it at lunchtime.
Me: (Swallowing the meds.) What was it?
Him: (Looking really scared) Peanut butter.
Gotta love him!
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