Thanksgiving Scene

Per mendacious' request, and before this one slides through the cracks of Thanksgiving Lore:


Okay, so the scene is that we're all sitting down at dinner: penelope, Scott, both sets of our parents, my grandma and Aunt Judy, Uncle Sunny and Auntie Ro (also known as Aunt Rosemary, but Auntie Ro is so much more appropriate in storytelling).

Somehow we get around to the topic of allergies. Scott is allergic to both raw apples and raw potatoes. And plums. They make his throat swell almost instantly. Auntie Ro comments, looking grave, "That's just like anaphylactic shock, like with bees. You need to get an epi-pen."

Certain thoughts begun to buzz in my mind. I'm sitting right across the table from Auntie Ro, and don't want to die laughing, so I busy myself with food. I know she's going to tell The Story, I just do.

Others around the table also comment on the anaphylactic shock idea and a few stories are shared about mowing the lawn and blazing through yellow jacket nests, and who has an epi-pen, etc.

Then Auntie Ro tells her Harrowing Tale, as is inevitable. "Yes," she says. "You really have to be careful."

At this point, I get up from the table and cross over to the fridge, taking a very leisurely amount of time in refilling my glass with ice and water. My face is already completely red, and only the fridge sees my sardonic smile.

"About 10 years ago [good lord, has it been this long?]," says Auntie Ro, "I was stung by a bee--literally, this bee stung me on the face and knocked me down the stairs." Here she inserts a gesture akin to Cosmo Kramer on Seinfeld, demonstrating how he got nailed by 'The Second Spitter.'

She continues: "And my face swelled completely. I had to wrap my head in a scarf, and put on a pair of sunglasses, and go to the drugstore. And the pharmacist told me, 'This is your last chance, you better get an epi-pen. The attacks will only get more serious from here.' So that's why," she finishes, talking to Scott, "You really should consider getting an epi-pen."

Scott's mom interjects, "Yes, you should--in fact, that may be something you already have?"

"Ummmm," says Scott. "I don't know..." he looks over at me inquiringly. I have refilled my glass and have somewhat managed to clear the amusement off my face.

"Nope, we don't," I say.

"Well, that's something you really want to consider," says Auntie Ro.

"Yes," I say, just as gravely and looking directly at Scott. "In case you're ever attacked by an apple."