My daughter has a peanut allergy. Translation: My daughter is used as an excuse for people to say all manner of crazy things to me.
1. Oh, they can be desensitized for that now.
2. No one has the right to decide my kid can’t have a peanut butter sandwich for school lunch.
3. She can have one of these cookies… I don’t see any nuts.
4. I don’t believe in allergies.
5. You keep your house too clean/ate peanuts while you were pregnant/ gave her peanuts too soon/ gave her peanuts too late. That’s what made her have allergies.
6. Just a little bit won’t hurt. Maybe she’s over it now… how will you know if she never tries it?
7. You just need to toughen her up.
8. Oh, she can eat this! I used smooth peanut butter, not chunky.
Here’s the deal: I’m happy to talk about food allergies with you. I’ll tell you what I’ve learned, if you want to know. BUT… nothing we say will change what I need to do for my daughter. Nothing you think about allergies changes the facts. I saw my baby’s back covered in welts after someone ate a PB & J sandwich and then touched her. I watched her face swell up instantly after her first bite of peanut butter.
It’s not my job to decide who’s to blame. It’s my job to keep her safe. Translation: it’s my job to keep peanuts out of my home; to read EVERY label EVERY time; to talk to the chef at a restaurant; and to politely ignore any misguided advice.
And if you really think I caused her food allergy by keeping my house too clean, please accept my invitation to drop by anytime. We can have a good laugh together over that one!