Here are just a few of the things Steve has an intolerance to: butter, milk, cheese, bread, pasta, pastry, biscuits and chocolate. In fact, you name it and chances are, Steve won’t be able to eat it.
The dairy based stuff swells his glands and results in a rampant rash. While anything containing glutton has him running for the nearest toilet.
This is a nightmare for the poor bloke, but great fun for me and Wend. We tease him by breaking off thick squares of Cadbury’s, closing our eyes, and feigning ecstasy as the delicious cocoa melts in our mouths. We take delight in pouring creamy custard over our puddings and we simply can’t help ourselves when we pass one of Australia’s legendary pie emporiums; asking his opinion on whether to go for the steak & onion, or lamb & rosemary.
Well, today he snapped. Sobbing like heroin addict who hadn’t had a fix for years he ordered a minced beef pastry topped off with creamed potato and chives.
We were expecting gastric fireworks, but sadly, his bowels behaved themselves and he managed to survive the afternoon unscathed. Moreover, he reckons the experience was an epiphany, proving that his allergies are merely psychosomatic and he’s been an attention seeking drama queen since childhood.
There’s much amusement after dinner when a possum joins us at the table to tuck into our leftovers. We leave her to it as we get ready for bed then check on her once more to find she’s fetched her baby who is clinging to her back as she licks the frying pan.
We probably shouldn’t encourage such behaviour as they’re treated as vermin over here, but it has to be said, they aren’t half cute.
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