Not so much. So one of my sons has decided to annoy the heck out of me and call me “Mummykins” at every given opportunity. I try to ignore it. Sometimes, yeah, it is funny, but I cannot give him the satisfaction of letting him know I am amused.
His dad came in yesterday to spend time with the boys. I told the child that we don’t play favourites here, and if he insists on calling me Mummykins he must therefore call his Abba by a comparable name, like Daddykins.
This kid is so smart – he said he would, except he knows it wouldn’t bother his father, so what would be the point?
Sigh. They kill me. In a good way!
The last time I ate a mushroom my throat swelled up and nearly closed. I had to seek emergency medical treatment. The time before that I was violently ill after eating a slice of mushroom pizza. I got the message that mushrooms and me were toxic together.
I have not eaten a mushroom in over sixteen years. Everywhere I go I specify “no mushrooms” – friends’ houses, restaurants, weddings. I never actually had the allergy tests done to prove that I was allergic, but it seemed pretty obvious to me that mushrooms were not safe for me to eat.
The KoD and I went out to eat today to celebrate our anniversary. The dish I ordered had absolutely no mention of mushrooms on the menu and for some reason I didn’t specify to the wait staff that they should ensure there were no shrooms. I always mention it, and if I forget, the KoD always remembers. Neither of us thought of it today.
I was three quarters of the way through my meal. I saw something on my plate that looked suspiciously like a mushroom, well half of a sliced mushroom. And look, there was another. Holy heckers – did I just eat mushrooms? OMG I am gonna die right here in the restaurant all because of a stupid mushroom! Panic panic hyperventilate.
KoD told me not to panic. (Easier said than done). I kept waiting for my throat to start itching, for my tongue to swell, for my life to flash before my eyes. I must say at this point that ever since he has known me, the KoD has been skeptical that I was allergic to the shrooms – and has encouraged me to get allergy tests.
It’s been 4 hours. Thank God I feel fine. I feel really fine and while part of me is convinced I didn’t actually ingest any mushroom, the other part of me is shocked that nothing untoward happened! I wanted to come home and swallow Benadryl immediately. If I would have had an allergic reaction it would have been instantaneous, not delayed, so there would have been no point.
This all just feels so weird. Did I miss out on 16 years worth of mushrooms unnecessarily? Did my allergy heal itself? Are US mushrooms different from UK ones? What on earth happened here??!
There is a tradition in Judaism, for weddings (and other important events) to be scheduled for Tuesdays. Why? Because, in the Torah, when God was creating the world, the text says the word “good” twice in respect to Tuesday, and on all the other days it says it only once. So it is thought to be a day with extra blessings.
My Tuesday today is definitely Paamayim Ki Tov. We were blessed this morning to watch our third son, Prince HockeyFan, put on tefillin for the first time, in shul. He joined the Club of the Tefillin Strappers. His father was on hand to help him and advise him, as were his brothers and his step-father. His step-mom and I watched from the ladies gallery and shepped much nachat. It doesn’t matter that I have done this a time or two before – it still touches me so deeply. Mazel Tov my son!
Secondly – today the KoD and I celebrate two years of married bliss! Last year for our first anniversary we were apart. I was in Montreal, he was in NY, we had no clue when we would be allowed to move to NY. I cried the entire day. I am so thankful and feel so blessed that we are together under the same roof. It’s been two wonderful years – despite the immigration headaches and nightmares – and I look forward to many more years of bliss with my KoD. Happy Anniversary!