At lunch this last week, friends I had not seen in two years had lots to say. Our husbands worked together, and our children played together. The wind kicked up, (big surprise), and we came indoors to eat. This brought up the subject of allergies, and one horror story was remembered from the 1970s. People do the dumbest things.

We had a birthday party for about 20 children and one boy came with a note to remind us that he was allergic to peanuts. The mother hosting the party said she thought there was too much made over allergies, and she gave the boy a cookie…with peanuts. We called the rescue squad, and he went to the hospital. Allergies are not a joke, and this one could have been tragic. The family who held the party moved, but I never stayed connected. Would you?

The Route 66 Arts Alliance had an arts camp and one little girl had pollen allergies. We kept her away from the trees. At 10 she knew what to do and used her inhaler. We were working with clay and needed to use the sun and picnic tables to keep the clay in one spot. (Side note: Good going to Jodi Miller, a clay expert extraordinaire. That lady can sling clay and make it real.)

Back to allergies. I have weird allergies, bees, wasps, ants, penicillin and… wait for it… chocolate and coffee. I have had people say that the coffee and chocolate loss would kill them. So, how you may ask, did I find out I am allergic to coffee? I tried it and went to the hospital. How about chocolate? Well, herein lies the tale.

Magazines used to advertise Godiva chocolate from England. They even had an ad in National Geographic, my favorite magazine. But I could never get to England to try this wonderful treat. I ate Hershey’s and Stover’s chocolate, not a lot, but I did eat it. So how could I be allergic? Bill White flew jet fighters for 33 years and he did go to England. And he did, at my request, buy a box of Godiva and put it into the baggage pod of an A-7. When you fly 30,000 feet in the air, it gets cold, and the candies had liquid in them, and they burst. His fellow pilots, when they saw the mess, took their hands and scooped it up. I got nothing.

Next trip, and it has been so long he won’t get in trouble, he bought the same box of candy and put it illegally in the cockpit with him so it wouldn’t freeze. He drove home from the airport and picked me up for dinner. I was staying with my Aunt Margaret who had a four-year-old child, Irene. While we were gone, she got the box, ate the entire thing and threw up all over her bedroom. I got nothing.

Next time Great Britain was on the list, Bill flew on a commercial jet coming and going with a box of Godiva on his lap. When he arrived, I met the plane and instead of a hello kiss he popped a chocolate in my mouth and let me tell you… it was incredible… excellent… everything you dreamed of, and while we waited for the luggage he gave me another one. Same effect, if I weren’t married to him, I would have said, “Yes, if there is Godiva chocolate.” Then I started to cough and had a hard time breathing. We went to the hospital. I had had two, TWO, Godiva chocolates. The nurse took them away. Anything with large amounts of real chocolate, I can not eat. Sigh. I can still eat a Hershey bar or Stover for Mother’s Day, but not British Godiva or Ghirardelli from San Francisco. I will survive, but don’t forget, if someone tells you they are allergic to food, or whatever, believe them. Sneaking it into their food is not smart. The consequences could be fatal. Roaring Mouse… eating cheese with fudge. Over and out.