Is today the day?

I hate to be the one,

To ruin all the fun,

Anytime we go out I say,

“I wonder if this will be okay.”

That’s all it is.

I wonder if today will be the day,

That my allergy attack gets so bad that it takes my life away.

I lie to all my friends,

Saying “yeah it’s okay to eat there”,

So that I am not the one putting the fun to an end.

I scan the menu,

Trying to find a dish that poses no threats,

And that I am possibly still into.

I’m careful.

I try to tell the waiter about my allergy,

But I’m doubtful.

Will the word get to the chef?

Can my trust in this restaurant be kept?

I start to worry,

What if they are in a hurry?

The pots the pans,

The bags the cans,

They all must be clean,

And sanitized by hand.

If they don’t cook on a clean slate,

Then it is my life that is at stake.

I flag down the waiter,

To remind him “just one more time”,

I picture him telling the staff “I hate her”,

But to my face he simply says “its fine”.

They bring out me food,

I inspect it through and through.

I build up the courage to take a bite.

Hoping and praying that everything is alright.

Nothing happens.

No bumps no rashes,

No itching No scratches.

I got lucky and I am fine.

But who knows what will happen next time?