The Possible Potato Predicament

I have a strong constitution. In TTRPG-speak (Table Top Role Play Game), I would

certainly say I am proficient and have a +6 to my Constitution Saving Throws. I take

most things in stride. Headache? I can usually power through until it starts affecting my

sight. It’ll pass Upset tummy? It’ll pass. Soreness? Stiffness? Tuck it away, adjust where

needed, it’ll pass.

I love potatoes. PO-TAY-TOES! We all know the meme and the gif and the forever-

famous line and the movie from whence it originated. “Ya boil ‘em, mash ‘em, stick ‘em

in a stew…” or bake them, fry them, brown them, top them, salt them, sauce

them…flavor them, cheese them…just yum. I get my spud love from my mom.

My now-young-adult niece is by far the world’s hugest fan of potatoes. (Apparently, it’s

genetic?) There were several years that mashed potatoes were quite literally the only

thing she would have on her plate at most family dinners. This was not a parenting fail.

She loved them, was sensitive to so many things and disliked so many more. Her

palette is more diverse now, but mashed potatoes have always been a main staple for

her. The entire food pyramid, all four of the food groups, you get it.

Recently, she was laughing while she told me, “I’m allergic to potatoes.” She explained

that she didn’t believe it at first. She would know, she thought! I mean, it’s all she eats,

really. Then, she said, she tried an experiment and didn’t eat potatoes for awhile and

then tried five French fries while out with some friends. She whipped out her phone and

showed me a photo of herself standing profile at the mirror, with her perfectly rounded-

from-bloat belly. “I look six months pregnant!” She exclaimed, still laughing, and

continued to tell me that she felt “so sick” and miserable and then two days later, she

was fine (another photo of her in the mirror, flat tummy, normal, bright complected.

I asked her how she felt about that, sort of sniffing around for any sadness or whatever,

and she gave me a flash of a pouty moue and then laughed again, “Well, I feel better

not eating them. I would rather feel better.” I wouldn’t say she’s happy about it, but she

seems to be adjusting well to the idea, anyway.

A couple weeks later, after going out to eat and having a burger and fries, I felt so sick.

This was about a week or so after I had had oral surgery, and after care in the interim

meant soft foods and a lot of mashed potatoes, potato soup, and that sort of thing. I

was miserable that night after the restaurant. Nauseous, uncomfortable, headachy,

couldn’t get to bed fast enough, just all the ick. It wasn’t food poisoning, and no one else

was sick, so my brain started solving the mystery.

You know, I’ve been eating a lot of potatoes. Potatoes had been making me feel

uncomfortable previously. Even potato chips were hanging around longer than they

should and “revisiting.” Niecie is allergic to potatoes. She said she felt sick and

bloated…What if…

So I decided I would experiment. I’ve been about three weeks (at posting time) free of

potatoes. I do feel quite a bit better in my tummy. And I’m doing alright. Except for

yesterday. French Fries. Oh! How I miss them. I pick up unhealthy (and delicious) food

on the way home sometimes, and yesterday was the first time in 3 weeks that I had. I

was disciplined and did not eat the fresh hot fries out of the bag. My husband shouldn’t

have to suffer with no fries because I am experimenting, so I got the fries for him. I did

not eat a single one, thank you very much.

Let’s just celebrate that for just a second, because it’s an accomplishment for me, and I

think we should recognize it. I didn’t take a single fry out of the bag to sample on the

drive home, and I didn’t steal one from Mr.’s plate. I’ve been doing that for the 22 years

we’ve been married, and longer since we’ve been together. Heck, probably most of my

life. But. I stuck with the no potatoes experiment! Yay, me! I do have will power when I

try!

But boy, I miss them. I didn’t realize I did until I smelled them on the way home! All their

hot, salty, greasy goodness! I went to take one out of the bag and stopped myself, and

had a moment, of maybe I’m not really allergic. One won’t cause a reaction, right? I

abstained, though. Somehow.

I was lamenting my lack of potato possibilities a little later when we went to Walmart,

and I was thinking suddenly of all the things I couldn’t eat, especially fries, if it turns out I

am indeed sensitive to them. My Love was patiently listening and sympathizing and

decided to distract me by wandering to the plushie aisle. (I love plush. Don’t get me

started!)

And there, sitting on the shelf was an Emotional Support French Fries plush.

Because the Universe is listening and God has a sense of humor, there, staring at me

from their perfect shade-of-red fry sleeve were six long, golden, smiling plush French

fries, telling me that No French Fries is not the end of the world. They made me laugh

and I found myself no longer pouting about my possible potato allergy.

And I can have my fries…I just can’t eat them too.