Finding out one is sensitive-bordering-on-allergic to shellfish when one lives in a province like Ontario is not so big a deal. Basically that means taking vegan glucosamine and avoiding the tackier cocktail parties. Now move that same one to the coast and tell that one, patiently and using small words, that shellfish is not a friend; while at the same time introducing that one to the mountains of tasty sushi they create by the cartload on every street corner in the province of B.C.
Then leave that one unmonitored for three weeks. You know who you are.
There is not enough Benadryl in the world to return my face and hands to their original, streamlined appearance. I look and feel like I am made of Jell-O. And I will do it all again because this one knows her sushi days are numbered, both by her immune system and the fact that, despite what Husband promises, there are no free range, organic soft-shelled crabs in Alberta.
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