I am one of the lucky people. To my knowledge, I have approximately one, maybe two, allergies: bumble and bumble color enhancing shampoo and/or conditioner. Which, allegedly, is not a cleansing shampoo and I have to use it in addition to my normal shampoo. What? No. Just no.

But this morning I saw this post by Lady Shutterbug and thought I would share the list of things I would be “allergic” to if I could.

-birds as decorations. I’m sorry, birds are not cute.
-locking yourself out of your own office. yep, that’s what I did this morning.
-being told how quiet I am. I get this ALL THE TIME, mostly from people who don’t know me, in which case…what do you expect? When my friends do it, I just roll my eyes because when they say it to me this is what I hear: “talktalktalktalktalkwhyareyousoquiet?talktalktalktalktalk”
-parents who tell their kids to shut up.
-actually, anyone telling anyone to shut up. It’s probably the most disrespectful thing you can say to someone.

And here is a list of things I claim to be allergic to but am not actually:
-nuts. This one is really obvious because I will eat many things and not even realize there were nuts in them. And it’s not all nuts all the time – I will eat nuts alone (like, if you have a bowl of peanuts, I might eat them). I will not eat mixed nuts though, so they have to be segregated. I used to like pistachios until my friends regaled me with their stories of how they bite into them and find moths and grubs and other bugs – which they did while eating a bowl of pistachios, unceasingly, never blinking. And now I say, never again.

-tomatoes. Again, obvious, because I will eat any tomato byproduct that doesn’t include chunks of tomato. I just don’t like whole tomatoes. Talk to me about ketchup and pizza sauce though and we’re good to go. This is like the nuts though – if I don’t realize they’re tomatoes and not red peppers, all bets are off. And now that we’ve talked about chunky tomato pizza sauce I have the WORST craving for Uno’s pizza. Terrible.

-peaches. I can’t stand them. I can’t even do peach-flavored things. This is the only thing on the list I literally won’t touch. Unless there are peach byproducts that taste nothing like peaches that I don’t know about.

-pickles. This one trumps everything else. I could live if your peaches touched my roll. But if someone puts a pickle on my plate the whole thing is ruined. Pickle taints EVERYTHING it touches. You cannot escape it or pretend it wasn’t there. I’m sorry, future husband, if you ever read this, but pickles are a deal breaker. They will never even be allowed in my house. Because you know what happens with jars of pickles that go in the fridge? They leak. Somehow, that juice escapes and gets all over the fridge. Also, the jar will inevitably be in the way of anything I need out of the fridge. And at least once a week it will come crashing down out of the fridge onto my foot where I will scream and maybe even cry and possibly refuse to pick it up because those pickles will be the death of me. Until eventually one fateful day the jar will fall on my foot and – from the stress of constantly being hated by me and falling at least once a week after leaking its nasty juice all over the good things in the fridge – that damn jar will break and then there will be pickle juice on me, my tights, my new dress, and the kitchen floor where the twins will climb right into the puddle because, even though the pickle juice is all over the inside of the fridge tainting all of my favorite things but none of yours, it will produce an obscenely large puddle on the floor that the twins will splash around in while I cry and cry because my foot is probably impaled with pickle glass and my babies are tainted with pickle juice and I know that spot is not going to come out of the kitchen floor and every single time I look at the fridge after that I will think about the time the pickles tried to kill me and how the floor still has a weird neon green stain on it and when I look close enough I can see one of the twins’ handprints at the very edge of the stain and I will swear I know which twin because moms know these things and I will probably hound you relentlessly about replacing the floor except then when you finally do I will cry because little Katie’s handprint isn’t there anymore and she was so much sweeter when she was splashing in pickle juice because she didn’t know better than she is now when she’s hanging over my shoulder demanding to know when dinner’s ready and why I don’t stop blogging and start cooking and I’ll be all “ugh why did I think being a stay at home mom was a good idea?”

So. Pickles are out.

For the record though, I generally don’t walk around claiming allergies. I just don’t eat them. It’s only if someone were to get all up in my face with a peach and tomato mixed nut cluster telling me how good it was and how I needed to eat it immediately and here one was coming right at my mouth that I would pull out the allergy card to escape.

Also for the record, why do we insist on telling people how good things are when they tell us we don’t like something? I do it just as much as anyone else I know, but I don’t know why.