This morning when I woke up, I had every intention of writing 666 on the boys' heads and blogging about how my laundry room/craft area flooded last night after 30 minutes of rain, how I've started yet another project of cleaning out the basement and how I'm running dangerously low on Ouzo, also known as Laura's Magic Elixir for Mood Stabilization and Prevention of Batshit Craziness.
But when I dropped Griffin off at gymnastics today, Darwin and I decided to go into the ethnic food market next door. Once I walked in, I realized it was a Japanese food market. I nearly pee'd my pants in excitement.
Granted, Darwin and I were the only people who could speak English in there and everyone stared at us, but it was like I jumped back in time 20 years.
My dad was born and raised in Hawaii. We always had food in the house that no one recognized, kim chee, Japanese popsicles, dehydrated shrimp and seaweed and lots of unrecognizable sweets.
Granted, due to our extreme food allergies, there was a lot of the food that I love that I could not get (especially the lo mein. And Japanese markets have THE BEST lo mein). But I did manage to get a few things the boys and I can have (I think, I hope)...
Marshmallows -- mainly for Griffin. He has an addiction.
Lycee hard candies. Yum.
Guava juice. My favorite. When my grandma still lived in Hawaii, she would send us seasonal shipments of guava juice and guava jam. The juice would always be gone in 24 hours.
Dried sweet potatoes. Because of the boys' extensive allergies, we call fruit leathers candy in our house. I hope this qualifies too.
Wheat free coconut cookies. It has tapioca flour instead.
As we were walking out, the manager gave these cookies to Darwin. I learned a long time ago, when someone gives you something you accept it gracefully. Aaron will probably have to take them into work (they have wheat).
So, I'm feeling better.
And this afternoon, I get to go to the allergist and discuss how I'm allergic to one of the allergy medicines she gave me. And I have Kathy (my step-mom) watching the boys so I can go alone. Think she'll believe me if I tell her the doctor's appointment is going to take four hours?