Sunday, January 24, 2010

In which lactose intolerant Sly and Doris eat our expensive cheese

September 2008 I know you want to know what happened with the Christmas presents, but first you have to know about the cheese. Trust me. It's part of the plot.

Sly and Doris are going to spend NINE DAYS at our house for our wedding. Yes. Despite their vow that they will not attend the wedding (I will tell you that whole saga eventually), Primo convinces them to come. Even though I am all, Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya. NINE DAYS, y'all. NINE DAYS.

"They're lactose intolerant," Primo tells me. "They drink Lactaid."

"Ask them if soy milk is OK," I say. "I have to get that for my mom and sister anyhow."

My mom and sister are lactose intolerant enough that the teeniest bit of milk or cheese or ice cream makes them very uncomfortable. They can't drink Lactaid. When my sister and I were in Italy, she just looked longingly at the gelato. And the cheese. My mom accidentally ate some of the Parmesan cheese in the salad at our wedding supper and spent the night miserable.

Primo checks. No, soy milk is not OK. Lactaid. Lactaid only. I buy Lactaid. The smallest unit in which Lactaid is available is half a gallon. Lactaid? Is not cheap.

Sly and Doris have a little bit of Lactaid with their cereal in the morning.*

They do not eat lunch. I mean, ever. They don't eat lunch. We'll discuss this again in a future post.

At 5:00, they have Snack.

Snack = Bourbon. A lot of bourbon.

Plus cheese.

Cheese? you ask.

But how does one who is lactose intolerant eat cheese?

Well that is the question du jour is it not?

And not just any cheese, but our expensive Carr Valley cheese that we eat sparingly. You know - not as a MEAL but as a true snack.

But if you haven't had anything to eat since 8:00 a.m. because you don't eat lunch, you're going to be hungrier than the average person, so you are going to fill up on cheese, even if you are allegedly lactose intolerant.

So they fill up on cheese. That they want Primo, who usually works from about 9:00 a.m. to 7:30 p.m.,** to cut up for them. That, to keep the darn peace, he does.

And then, at 7:30 p.m., when I have supper ready - steak, roasted chicken - guess what? Oh, we're not that hungry, dear. You really didn't need to go through all that trouble for us.***

By the time they leave, they have used only about three cups of the Lactaid.

* I will tell you the oatmeal story later. About how I did not offer oatmeal to Sly. And how that made me a bad hostess.

** On a good day.

*** Oh yeah right like I wouldn't have heard about it via Primo if I had just thrown together something light and easy for supper.

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