I came home the other day to discover that my boyfriend had bought us a pie.
In normal circumstances, I would SHOVE MY FACE STRAIGHT INTO THE PIE and go back for seconds, obviously. But this occasion was different…
My boyfriend’s choice – Steak and Stilton – was wasted on me. My Dad is allergic to the penicillin in blue cheese and, as a result, I’ve never eaten it. Not feeling in the mood for food games (to be honest, a packet of Quavers and a good sit down would have hit the spot), I politely declined his offer.
My boyfriend’s disappointment didn’t go unnoticed. My best effort to console him with “what a sweet and thoughtful gesture” and “why don’t I eat this chocolate bar while you eat the pie?” was met with a heavy sigh followed by SILENCE.
Understandably, he felt rejected.
While I was busy wishing the pie would eat me instead, my boyfriend announced that I should eat the pie because “life is all about taking risks”.
Don’t get me wrong, I like to take a risk as much as the next person – I once misjudged the length of a puddle while out for a jog, I landed straight in it and I’m pretty sure a dog-walking stranger snapchatted the whole thing – but I draw the line at eating a potential death risk pie.
Boyfriend: “lots of people eat pies that their parents are allergic to”
Me: “name one”
Me: “I’m sorry but I don’t feel like eating the pie”
Boyfriend: “you don’t know if you’re allergic to the pie….”
If it was a bungee jump I’d definitely weigh out the risk vs fun factor but this isn’t a bungee jump or a helicopter ride or a skydive – IT’S A FUCKING PIE.
FYI, if you catch Google on a good day it will say there’s no evidence between a parent and child being allergic to the same things but if you catch it on a bad day…
In the end my boyfriend took one for the team and ate the pie himself – it stank when it came out the oven and, as it turns out, was a bit of a disappointment.
FYI no boyfriend was harmed in the writing of this blog. A new pie was purchased on a later date and was thoroughly enjoyed by both parties.