Crop Dusting*

When the Hubster and I started dating, I learned that he was lactose intolerant.

I’ll be honest–I didn’t have a clue what that meant. He explained that he couldn’t have dairy products as he can’t digest them properly. This was a completely foreign concept for me as no one in my family has any food allergies.

Back then, he could still get away with eating a little bit of dairy if he took a Lactaid pill before he ate. However, as he’s gotten older his sensitivity to dairy has greatly increased–to the point where we have cut it out of our diet almost completely. We drink almond milk, cook with rice cheese, and use lactose-free margarine. When we eat out, we try to avoid “north american” restaurants as everything is laced with dairy. There is butter, cream, milk or cheese in almost everything, and the Hubster experiences a lot of discomfort when he’s eaten something he shouldn’t.

One of the symptoms of lactose intolerance is gas. We always know when the Hubster has eaten something with milk in it. ha

While his parents were visiting us in December we spent several evenings with them and ate out together more than once. The Hubs and I like to go for Japanese, Indian or Thai, but this time we all decided to go to Swiss Chalet for dinner before going to visit some family friends.

Now then, we’ve had a little trouble with Swiss Chalet before. We know there is dairy in or on the fries (meaning they’ve been cooked in the same oil as something with dairy) and there is obviously dairy in the sour cream on the baked potatoes. The Hubster is always careful with what he orders, but sometimes there’s dairy in something we don’t expect.

Shortly after dinner the Hubster began experiencing “a little trouble”. We had just arrived at the home of his parent’s friends when he began to feel the familiar rumbling discomfort that always precedes the dreaded gas.

We were visiting former long-time neighbours who have a very old, very unfriendly dog named Laddie. He is well into his teens and doesn’t like to be touched by strangers. We were all sitting in the living room with Laddie laying at our feet when K* (the neighbour) stood to offer us something for dessert. Her open concept kitchen / dining room / living room allowed us to continue our conversation without interruption. As  K* puttered about in the kitchen, the Hubster stood to stretch his legs and “crop dust”. When he knows that he has gas and is in a situation where he can’t easily explain or leave he tries hard to move to an area of the room where “the discomfort” won’t be noticeable.

He can’t help what’s happening to his body, but he does try to cover it as best he can.

When the Hubster stood, his mom came to sit beside me on the couch, with Laddie just in front of us on the floor. The Hubs was still walking around the room behind us, and K* walked over to get something she needed. As she passed she scrunched up her nose and said,

“Oh Laddie! You smell awful!”

I realized that she thought her dog was the one passing gas and immediately clamped my mouth shut to try not to laugh. I glanced over at my mother in law to see if she had heard what I did, and we both burst into laughter.

Now I’m not talking about a little chuckle, I was full-on laughing my head off with tears rolling down my cheeks. She kept whispering what K* had said under her breath and I’d start off again.

Naturally, when someone starts laughing as we were, people get curious. The Hubster came strolling over wanting to know what was so funny.

Of course, this made me laugh harder, and I couldn’t even speak. We made up some cover story, but I had the giggles for the next 30 minutes. The Hubster was beyond puzzled and thought I was drunk.

When he finally left we explained that his crop dusting hadn’t been effective and that K* had noticed the smell… but had blamed it on her dog. He roared with laughter, felt bad for a minute, then was grateful that Laddie “took one for the team”.