Some were born this way, while others joined the crusade later in life (the late bloomers). Being lactose intolerant is the pits, honestly. However, when I whine about it (and I whine about it all the time) everyone seems to think I’m being ridiculous. “Can’t you just take a pill?” “So what? It’s a stomach ache.” All of these quotes are thrown down on the daily and I don’t think y’all get it. Here are some of the worst things about being lactose intolerant.
1. For some reason, America likes to cover everything in cheese.
Do you know how many of those “Tasty” videos on Facebook are titled things like “Cheesy Bites”, “Cheese Tornado”, “Brie Boyfriend”, or “Deep Fried Mozzarella Tampons” or whatever the heck is trending. All I know is this: scrolling through my Facebook makes me gassy just LOOKING at all this cheese overdosing. America, why can’t we just chill on the cheese? Please?
2. I can never eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s “Half Baked” with my gals when I go through a breakup.
What’s worse than a breakup? Being newly broken up with and having an aching bowel, that’s what. All I want is to be like a character in a teenage rom-com. I want to call my BFF Jenny on my house phone that still hasn’t gone cordless while I go on about how I’m baffled by how stupid Brad was at the prom. Can I do that with this lame cup of sorbet? No, I cannot. My dreams of splaying on my couch while watching a marathon of “Parks and Rec” with pint of Ben and Jerry’s in hand and a soup ladle for a spoon are toast.
3. Pizza.
If you’re like me, you never thought pizza would wrong you. I thought it would wrong my thighs, but not me. Then, I became lactose intolerant. The first thing anyone offers to bring to a club meeting is always pizza. The first thing people have at parties is always pizza. It is everywhere and it is delicious. People say to use goat cheese as an alternative to mozzarella, but goat cheese tastes kind of like a bitter shoe so I’m just going to whine more.
4. How am I going to drink the milk with my cookies when I have to play Santa?
My kids are going to see right through my charade when they find a little pool of 2% in the bottom of the fireplace. I’m going to have to craft some lie about how Santa leaves the milk if it’s not in a cool mug or something. They’ll believe it if they’re my spawn.
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