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Tuesday, November 05, 2013

#*$& gluten!

Flickr: NickWhitworth; used under cc by-sa 2.0


OK so...here's pretty much what the conversation between my body and my brain has been over the last year:


 BRAIN: Ow. Ow. Seriously? Oww. I'm all swollen. And what is going on with Stomach?! Feels like I'm being skewered with hot pokers in there. Whatever you guts are doing, knock it the eff off.

GUTS: Sorry, boss. We haven't been ourselves lately. We feel all...overcrowded. 

BRAIN: Aw, crap.

GUTS: Yeah, that's kind of what we're saying.

BRAIN: OK. Well, let's get looking into that. Hair, what's up with you? You're all brassy, and dry as hell. Maybe a spa day would help. Or, like, a spa...week?

HAIR: I know, I know. I'm all dry and shizz. I don't know what to tell you, but before you ask, Nails are all brittle, too, and Skin's been mad ashy. She needs, like, some shea butter or something.

BRAIN: OK, OK. What the hell is going on? What was it, just, like, six months ago we were on top of our game! Feeling good! Feeling all invincible and junk. What the hell happened?

GUTS: Uh, well, we didn't want to say anything. But...boss, you haven't been yourself lately, either.

BRAIN: What? What are you talking about. I'm on top of my game. You all are falling apart, but there's nothing wrong with me. Uh...did anyone see where I put my keys?

EYES: Uh huh, that's the fourth time you've asked us that this week.

BRAIN: F***. OK, here's the deal. Guts, we're starting with you. There's big news going on now about wheat allergies. Maybe we have that. Sh*t, I didn't think we had any allergies, but we're getting kind of, you know, up there...

ENSEMBLE: *incoherent clamor*

BRAIN: Now, hey, now. Come on. We're 35. That's, like, approaching middle age. Now, I'm not saying we're ready for elastic waistbands and shuffleboard, but I do think we need to consider that the years of eating whatever the hell we wanted has, you know, started to catch up.

BOOTY: You're telling me.

BRAIN: Yeah, Booty, we've been meaning to talk to you about that. We need to keep an eye on you. This freaking desk job is the pits.

PITS: Hey!

BRAIN: Alright, anyway. Like I was saying, we may have developed an intolerance for something, and we're going to start with the wheat.

TONGUE: Nooooo!!!

BRAIN: I'm sorry, Tongue, but yes. We're going to start there. Let's see where it gets us.

**One month later**

BRAIN: Well, guys, good job! Everyone is looking good. I think it's safe to say that the wheat was definitely at least part of the problem. Look! Even Booty is looking good!

BOOTY: Thanks, boss.

TONGUE: *pout* I miss bread.

BRAIN: Oh, now, Tongue, don't start.

TONGUE: And cake. And cookies.

STOMACH: Here he goes...

TONGUE: ...and bagels and crackers and cupcakes and cereal and wahhhh!!!

BRAIN: Sighh. OK Tongue. Tomorrow morning we'll make some pancakes for the kids and you can have one.

**One month later**

BRAIN: uhhhhhhhh.

STOMACH: uhhhhhhnnnnhh.

GUTS: mmmf. mmmmmmmmf.

BRAIN: wha...whahappn?

TONGUE. WHOOOO!!! LOTS of WHEAT! And pancakes and cookies and cake and bagels and EVERYTHING!!!!!!

BRAIN: I..*urp*....think we need to try that again.

And so the cycle has continued, month after month, for the last year. I feel gross and I'm trying to buckle down and get rid of ALL THE WHEAT. But dang, it's hard!

Especially when your kids are all, "Mommy! We baked a cake!"

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