“I hope your mango is ripe!”

 Name that movie quote!

I guarantee you know it. 

Speaking of mangoes, apparently I am pretty allergic to them. I found this out this past week, when I ate half a pound of fresh mango and then couldn’t figure out why I was suddenly itchy for the rest of the night. Incidentally, I had a big tub of mango at work the weekend prior and experienced some peculiar sore throat and flu like symptoms, which I assumed were just based in drama. I tend to feel physically ill when I’m being made to do something I don’t want to. 

Fast forward to 3am when L climbs in bed with me to cuddle until morning, per her usual routine, and I am violently awoken.

My hands were violently numb and burning AND itching, but I figure I must have had one go to sleep. I got up and used the bathroom, then realized my wedding rings were cutting off the circulation to my ring finger and it was rapidly turning purple! I got the rings off and moved to the couch to text a bunch of my ICU friends to find out if they figure I was dying or suffering from status dramaticus. 

One of them told me I better try some Benadryl, so I dig out some 3-years-expired benadryl and took that, which helped.

I don’t remember much about driving the kids to school 3 hours later, but the important thing is that I could breathe and my hands felt better! Lol.

I’m so sad about mangoes though. I was really on a kick with them.