I have a new mistress. Her name is Deviled-Egg Potato Salad. I wrote a missive to her, below.
Dear Deviled-Egg Potato Salad,
Why? Why are you so simultaneously beguiling and gas-inducing? On the one hand I enjoy your creamy-eggy-mustardy goodness. On the other hand, after a serving of you I feel my pants will explode from the expulsion of flatulence that you induce. I am torn, Deviled-Egg Potato Salad.
Don’t get me wrong; I don’t blame you. After all, I’ve always known that Deviled Eggs themselves will give me gas. So I should have known that in combining you with a classic mayo-based potato salad would only induce even more gaseous emissions. It’s not you, Deviled-Egg Potato Salad, it’s me.
You see, I have IBS. It’s something I know I cannot blame on you. It is my problem to conquer, not yours. I love you so much Deviled-Egg Potato Salad. I’d never leave you, ever. I just hope you’re okay sharing me with Carne Asada Burrito and Nachos. It’ll be a foursome of greasy, savory goodness.
Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart.
Your Future Diabetic Friend,
Jamesy-Pal
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