When people have food allergies, it’s usually kind of a good thing in a roundabout way. It can keep them away from foods that are not the best thing for you. Allergic to nuts? Snickers bars are off the table. Allergic to dairy? Bye-bye Ben & Jerry!
I appear to be developing an allergy to carrots.
Carrots. That ubiquitous diet food, that healthy snack, that “don’t reach for the candy, reach for the carrot!” carrot.
Apparently if I were a donkey you were trying to manipulate, your little reward for my good behaviour would kill me. And how would that make you feel, you donkey-slayer?
Twice in the last week and a half, I (as part of an ongoing campaign to reform my public image) have eaten carrots. Both times I’ve come away with a sore throat, a severely swollen tongue and body aches. So it’s either the carrots or someone at church was feeding me cat hair on the sly.
How like me. I’m like one of the misfit kids on the Wonka tour. Little roly-poly four-eyed brunette who gets ejected from the factory because she won’t eat her veggies.
I wonder if this means I can’t watch Veggie Tales. Is there even a carrot in Veggie Tales?