Corn

Since Madison was born, I have had a (sometimes violently uncomfortable) sensitivity to raw corn. It took a while to figure out what was causing the problem, but we eventually narrowed it down.

Every summer or two, when corn season was at its height, I couldn't resist trying just a nibble to test whether it still made me sick.

It always did, even last year. Even the baby corn in Chinese food sent my digestive system into a hissy fit.

But this year, my problem seems miraculously to have disappeared. I tried a few bites about three weeks ago and I was fine. So, two weeks ago, I ate half an ear, because, you know, I couldn't resist, 'tis the season. Again, no problem. And then last week I had actual whole ears of corn on three separate occasions, because everyone served it to us while we were away friend- and relative-hopping, and lo and behold, no reaction whatsoever.

I had some again last night. I'm fine today. Go figure. It's almost as if parts of my anatomy were saying, "Gosh, she's turning 40 soon. Let's console her a bit and give her back the corn."

I wish medical science would catch up and explain the vicissitudes of the human body, but I'm not holding my breath.