I have a series of facts, and each one will make me older.
Front
Back (apologies for my handwriting!)
The text of the postcard is
Dear Ellen,
My how daydreams change. When I was in middle school I read RoboTech and fantasy books and pictured myself in their worlds.
Now I see beautiful national parks and think of packing up the car and going camping with my family.
Both are escapes, but my how daydreams change.
Sincerely,
DumbFunnery.com OR
@DumbFunnery
Because of digestion issues that our son has, my wife has willingly sacrificed my primary food group, dairy, and another food that is apparently in everything – soy.
My wife is pretty ok with this, it’s worth it to be able to breastfeed him. If she didn’t drop those two foods we would have to give him some crazy formula. (Normal formula has dairy.)
Sometimes, scratch that, often, she likes to talk about her first meal. This, as opposed to a last meal for a death row inmate, is the first meal she’ll have when she is allowed to eat whatever she wants (most kids outgrow this issue by 1 year old … and regardless of that, he’ll stop breastfeeding at some point).
Pizza. Pizza is always mentioned at the first meal. We made a non-dairy, non-soy pizza. Non-dairy cheese is weird. It doesn’t melt. You throw it in the oven, check 10 minutes later and there it is, just laughing. ‘You thought I would melt? Who do you think is in charge here? You? … Hmph.’
Hello, beautifuls.
Following that would be ice cream. There is non-dairy, non-soy ice cream (and you may find it funny I have to keep mentioning soy … seriously, that sneaks into everything). But, like the pizza, it’s almost ice cream. Sometimes my wife and I will both have ice cream (with me having the real stuff) and I can feel her looking at me. Well, not me, but my ice cream. There’s sadness in them there dairy-free looks.
My woes are a trifling concern next to my wife’s … but I am also greatly looking forward to the return of ordering pizza.
And let’s be honest with ourselves – the first meal won’t be A meal. It’ll be an ongoing love fest of old favorite foods and restaurants. We have discovered two restaurants that say, ‘yeah we can do no-dairy, no-soy’ and they ACTUALLY do it. Other places say that, but as I have repeated several times already, soy is a tricky devil. How do we know that soy snuck in to their food? Well, the kiddo is uncomfortable and a few tiny specks of blood show up in his stool. The body can’t handle what the body can’t handle.
It sounds bad, I know, but his body is ok, so don’t you worry about our sweet little tiny tyrant.
Here’s my prediction:
DumbFunnery 