Monday, November 28, 2011


My husband and I recently celebrated our anniversary.  16 years together, and going strong.
It led to the inevitable questions from the kids..."Where did you and Daddy meet?" (In school)  "Where did you go on your first date?" (Out for Ice Cream)  "Were you sad, Mommy?"
This is where the conversation gets tricky.
I was telling them the story of our first date, over a shared coffee and ice cream concoction (the ice cream was mint chocolate chip flavor, by the way), and my youngest's eyes were getting bigger and bigger.  I told them we ordered 2 straws.  And shared it.
"Mommy, you ate it, too?"
Uh huh.  Of course.
"Oh, no!  Did you die?"
This was said in all seriousness.  With a wave of fearful emotion behind it, and tears swimming in her eyes.  No, I quickly reassured her, I didn't die.  That was before we knew I was allergic to corn. 
This is a difficult concept to grasp.  There was a time when I didn't know I was allergic to corn, and could function.  There was a time when I might not have even reacted to the smaller derivatives.  But somewhere in there I did start reacting, and developed a love/hate relationship with food.
My husband recalled that when we first started dating, I almost exclusively wore empire waisted dresses.  And now we've known each other long enough for me to confess why.  Looking back, I remember how painfully bloated I would get during the day.  After lunch, especially.  Which isn't surprising, since I lived off corn chips my freshman year.  (I quit that in a hurry, and went to rice.  Or fries.  And chocolate bars.)   Anyways, those high waisted dresses accomodated my changing, tender belly.

It's funny how things change.  You don't even know why until you start looking backwards.
The kids asked what Daddy and I used to do when we went out.  The answers make me frown.  We went out to eat, although those restaurants are now pretty much off limits.  We went to the coffee shop, again, off limits.  We spent time in the discount movie theater.  About the only thing we 'used to do' that we still do is frequent the park. For different reasons, of course.

In many ways, life is much better now.  Mostly because I'm not constantly reciting "5 more minutes, I can make it through 5 more minutes".  But sometimes...sometimes I miss the ice cream parlor trips.

1 comment:

Michelle said...

Interesting.... We just had our 12th anniversary. Met in a bar, he took me to eat, and then asked if he could kidnap me. :-) I let him and never went home. I understand about the love hate food relationship. I too was bloated on and off, for days.