Our local MedFast Clinic closes up shop promptly at 7:00 pm. Which is good news, since I generally serve dinner at 6.
Over the last few years, we’ve made frequent trips to MedFast. And by “we”, I mean Fiddledaddy hauls Jensen to the clinic, while I stay home wringing my hands. Fiddledaddy has learned that it’s best to leave me behind, as it is hard to hear the doctor over all of my hysterical sobbing.
They know us by name. And they generally know to expect us right after dinner. Most of the time, I unwittingly serve Jensen some sort of sea food concoction. And sadly, Jensen is allergic to certain types of fish. We’re just not certain which ones, so a seafood dinner in our house is like playing Russian Roulette.
I’m since learned to simply feed the boy a fare of Chicken Nuggets or a simple Hot Dog whenever I’m serving sea food.
Over this last particular weekend, I made a dish that featured roasted Pine Nuts.
Jensen is allergic to Peanuts.
And he is apparently allergic to pine nuts as well.
You would think the NUTS would have given me the clue. The ensuing projectile vomiting certainly drove the point home.
The dish I made was one I’ve served before. But I’m assuming that I had the pine nuts in a bowl to be used separately as a garnish. On this night I threw everything all together.
Jensen eyed the pine nuts nestled in his beloved ground beef suspiciously. I waved them off as a spice, and told him he would never know they were there. After one singular bite, he grabbed his throat and complained that it was hurting.
We keep a small amount of Prednisone on hand (from his last trip to MedFast) and administered it immediately. To no avail. Since we were fast approaching 7:00, Fiddledaddy bundled up his boy who was clad in his Toy Story Woody pajamas, and headed for the clinic. Armed with a 9 year old sister to help corral the throw up bucket.
When he arrived, the nurse sighed, “Well, I’ll go plug the machines back in.”
They are always happy to see us. Before the visit concluded, he was back to his old self.
Upon exiting, the helpful nurse told Fiddledaddy to pass on some information, “Yes, pine nuts do fall within the NUT family.”
I was outside weeding (which is far more productive than hang wringing) when they drove up. Jensen bounced out of the car carrying an empty Wendy’s Frosty cup. And all was right with the world once more.
Especially since Fiddledaddy also saw fit to ply the guilt ridden and bedraggled mother with a Frosty of her very own.