Yesterday when I returned home from my weekend at my in-law’s house I was relieved to be back because I am seriously allergic to something at their house and I never manage to stay there for more than twenty-four hours without coming down with a runny nose and itchy, watery eyes. The first five times this happened I thought I was just getting a cold. It took awhile for me to notice that this was indeed a pattern. It would be highly convenient if I hated my in-laws. I bet there is someone out there reading my blog and thinking - gee, I wish that was me! A legitimate excuse to never visit! But, I enjoy my in-laws, so it just plain stinks. Another one of those life ain’t fair moments. Ironic, even.

Anyway, I step out of the car, tickled to be breathing air that doesn’t cause me to hack, wheeze and drip mucous. Then I see him. There is my husband walking across the parking lot. He is carrying an enormous bouquet of flowers. There are six deep red roses and several stems of star gazer lilies. It is a truly lovely arrangement. What a man!  Unfortunately, I am severely allergic to those lilies! But I love my husband, so I do the right thing. I thank him profusely, tell him how much I love the flowers, that I missed him too, and all of the usual.

Chris is a wonderful guy. He tells me he got this particular type of lilies because those are the ones he got me when we were first married and it was a tradition now. Oh no. I have very clear memories of last time, thinking that they were very lovely, and then getting sick. Then I have the memory of taking them to the office where I was asked by a few other people to please take them home because it was making them sick. These are some potent flowers. Beautiful- but deadly.

My husband is kind of a softy and I know it will hurt if I tell him all of this. So I suffer in silence. I blow my nose every five minutes and claw my eyes. Finally, he goes to the other room for awhile so I quickly put the offending flowers outside on the veranda. In a few minutes it becomes easier to breathe. Since they are out of sight, I forget about them. Chris notices they are not on the dining room table about two hours later.

I had to confess. I adore the flowers- but I can’t live with the flowers. The flowers are slowly strangling your wife.  It’s me or the flowers.  His face falls, so I bring them back inside.

All night long the flowers poison me. Come six a.m. I have had enough. The flowers went back outside. I am enjoying them through the glass window. Chris and I have had a frank discussion about how I prefer potted plants, and please, no more lilies. I don’t think any feelings got hurt. About half of my symptoms are gone, hopefully I will feel better tomorrow.