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Our Crack Little Crack

frog.jpg Tummy Trouble

Thanks to a generally robust constitution, or perhaps just luck, Little Crack doesn’t have much experience of tummy trouble. However, last night we ate a piece of fish that we suspect may have caused something called scombroid, which is a suitably revolting word for histamine food poisoning. Aside from the pounding of our heart in our ears, the hot shivers and the rising bile, it was the way our lips swelled to twice their normal size and our face rapidly became a pulpy peeled tomato that made us think something was amiss. Two hours after our tea, we looked exactly as though we’d had a lunch-hour face peel and an over-enthusiastic dose of lip plumping. We spent 35 agonising minutes expelling the poison from our wretched body, followed by 4 minutes in the recovery position thinking how wonderful it is not to feel wretched and how we were going to remember that fact every moment from now on. Then our mind drifted, we got up, and, in an act we hope says more about these narcissistic times than it does about our personal vanity, we admired our temporarily sensuous pout for a bit.