ahe-e-e-ad… In the House of Mamafour.
Baby plum has a new need. Strong cheddar sandwiches for lunch are no longer enough, apparently. No no no. Plum needs a stack of raw onion in there too.
There’s just one teensy problem with this though. It’s a little known factoid that for some reason, I am hugely sensitive to raw onion, and get horrendous onion breath from just one nibble. honest. the diced bits in a Big Mac are enough to set my breath a-stinking.
Yesterday I did spoil myself with two enormous doorstops of cheese and onion. But of course the Head Honcho wasn’t home. He eyed me in a worried fashion when I told him last night about this lovely new sandwich I’ve discovered. Asked me if it was a real craving, in mildly concerned tones.
Lunchtime today and he appears behind me as I’m slicing the onion.
Doesn’t say a word – though he watches me enjoying every last crumbful a little too closely. Within ten minutes I noticed him wincing whenever I’m close.
I retire to the bathroom for a little brushing, scrubbing, gargling and the like.
Half an hour ago I re-eneterd the house, smelloing sweet and fresh as a daisy. But its returning. I can taste it.
What to do? Do I withhold the longing and stay clear of the onion, sticking to my usual and non-offensive tomato accompaniment? Or do I risk marital discord and chomp my way through half an onion a day?
Unless anyone knows a cure for onion breath of course.