Something’s Fishy
I’m allergic to fish/seafood. It’s not the anaphylactic type of allergy, thank goodness, so I’m not going to die if I eat some, but I do throw up, have a stomach ache, and a massive headache for a few hours. Enough fish/seafood and I break out in small red hives over my arms. My mother didn’t believe it and as a child, I couldn’t stand up to her properly.
She’d force me to eat stuff with seafood or fish in it to “prove” I wasn’t allergic, then ignore me as I was sick. One day, she held a dinner party. I was dressed up beautifully and trotted out to parade before the guests. At the time, I was about nine, precocious for my age, and absolutely fed up with my mother making me sick from food.
When she held out a fish cutlet (fish cooked with vegetables, rolled into a ball, covered in batter and fried) for me to eat, I saw my chance. Me, loudly: “I can’t eat that, I’m allergic to fish”. Mother: “No, you’re not. Eat it”. Me: “I am allergic! I’ll throw up!” No Asian mother will back down in front of guests for fear of looking like she can’t discipline her child.
So my mother grabbed the fish cutlet, shoved it to my mouth, and said in her most firm voice of command, “EAT”. So I ate it. Cut to about ten minutes later. I go up to my mother and tug on her sari to get attention. Me: “I don’t feel well—” BARF. I vomited on her, on the expensive carpet, and in full view of all the guests. My mother has a reputation for being a kind, generous, charitable, and very religious woman, so in front of all the guests, she couldn’t do anything except act sympathetic and send me off to bed to recover.
She never made me eat fish or seafood again.