She baked. I ate.
Allergies stink. I'm all kinds of thankful I don't have a peanut or wheat allergy. Dairy though can be brutal to my super sensitive spidey senses. Since I've practically picked at half the banana bread baked with a minimum of 4 eggs and 500 pounds of of butter, my skin is itching as if I've happily walked through a field of poison poppy, bathed in a bathwater of poison ivy.
I confess I do have the mama of all antihistimines but it guarantees nothing. I can still wake up tomorrow morning looking as bright and sunny as a sprouting potato stuck in the back drawer for a horrifying amount of time.
At least, I enjoyed it while I can. Dr. Evil or not, my girl can bake.
