I think my husband is trying to kill me.
Not the "spike my drink with cyanide" kind, but the "I'm lactose intolerant so I'll give you cheese" kind.
It is not entirely his fault. I could have declined when he offered me pizza and lunch-time cheese fries. I could have taken a lactase to counteract the lactose in all that dairy.
Instead I shoveled all that yummy deliciousness into my mouth without a second thought. Who am I to say no to ooey-gooey queso?
As always, I paid a dear price, but this time it was much higher. Not only did I forget to prepare with a lactaid, in addition to all that cheese, there was spicy BBQ involved.
So if I die before the Tums or Alka-Seltzer kicks in, just make sure you tell the police that my husband chose the last few meals and made me eat them...
And they all contained cheese.
Not the "spike my drink with cyanide" kind, but the "I'm lactose intolerant so I'll give you cheese" kind.
It is not entirely his fault. I could have declined when he offered me pizza and lunch-time cheese fries. I could have taken a lactase to counteract the lactose in all that dairy.
Instead I shoveled all that yummy deliciousness into my mouth without a second thought. Who am I to say no to ooey-gooey queso?
As always, I paid a dear price, but this time it was much higher. Not only did I forget to prepare with a lactaid, in addition to all that cheese, there was spicy BBQ involved.
So if I die before the Tums or Alka-Seltzer kicks in, just make sure you tell the police that my husband chose the last few meals and made me eat them...
And they all contained cheese.
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