Easter
Elsie has allergies. Six. She can't eat dairy products, eggs, soya, peanuts, kiwi or mustard. She also seems to be allergic to cats judging from her puffy eyes and swollen lips after a recent visit to a cat-infested home. She has always known there are certain things she can't eat, and since she has been able to talk she has been amazingly good at telling people what she can and can't eat. Taking her into a specialist shop last week, my mum asked the owner for help finding the rice-based desserts. The owner looked at Elsie, whom she recognised, and said 'go on, you know what you can eat' and Elsie led them both straight there. If she sees something new the first question is always the same. 'Can I eat that?' It's not permission she's asking for, it's an ingredient list. At Easter I was grateful we were in Poland. Grateful for the relative lack of chocolate bombardment, the chocolate eggs and bunnies and lambs that crowd in on you, the cad