“Hey, Mom! I got bit three times by a big fly with a green head.”
Mom was making a chocolate souffle. She had taken a French cooking class, and we were eating French stuff every night.
“Put some ice on it, and have some ice cream. That will make it better,” she said.
One hour later I came back into the kitchen and told Mom that I didn’t feel good.
“Your head has swelled up like a basketball!” she yelled. “Get into the car! You have to go to the emergency room.”
My eyes had swelled shut, so I was wandering aimlessly when she grabbed my hand and got me to the care I needed.
She left the souffle in the oven, and when we finally got home, the light and airy dessert looked like a black Frisbee. Since she saved my life, I tried a piece.
I put peanut butter on it. I can eat anything with peanut butter on it, even celery.