Death by Ice Cream

Pea tried to kill me.

Okay, not really. What he did do was poison me inadvertently, which could, in fact, have led to my early and untimely demise. Pea's "mutiny" began with one small, simple action: he fetched me a glass of water.

Completely engrossed in whatever I was reading, I took a sip without looking at at the glass. One would think that when somebody you're seeing brings you a drink of water that it would be in a clean glass - one would, in this instance, be wrong.

There was ice cream on the rim of the glass - although how you get ice cream on the rim of a drinking glass I have no idea. Ice cream, unfortunately, is my mortal enemy - it's practically all milk. Dairy products cause me to go into anaphlactic shock. I've been that way since infancy.

So, upon taking a sip of what should have been a cold and refreshing glass of pure, untainted water, I realized that I had instead taken a sip of cold and refreshing liquid death. At the time, I didn't know the sticky substance on the lip of the glass was ice cream - only that it was setting off a reaction in me that could be a very bad thing if left unchecked.

We recovered, of course, by pumping me full of pulverized antihystemines, followed shortly by an overwhelming Benadryl coma. The night's shot, of course, but all parties involved survived.

I don't think we'll be making that mistake again.