So first, I'm feeling kinda shitty about being so completely over-the-edge out of sympathy for this person who I used to love and who I still care about. I was talking with the Chica, though, and god bless her, she totally gets it. You have to understand that I played receiving end in the "It's really your fault that I hate my life because you ___" game for 13 years. THIRTEEN. Which, you know, was my choice, so I'm not slinging any blame there--but I'm over it now. Really, REALLY over it. I truly do hope that he deals with his demons so that he can be healthy and happy, but in the meantime, I don't need this drama. I am the Drama Queen, I have drama enough all on my own, thank you very much.
And second--Red Dye #40 is Hell Spit. When we put the Boy on the Feingold diet, he showed improvement pretty much right away, but it's been pretty gradual so I haven't been a real food nazi about it. But ho-ly crap, after a weekend on Red Tylenol and Orange Motrin and Strawberry Keflex (strep throat), the child morphed into Damien overnight. It's that drastic. I just sort of watched him spin completely out of control yesterday, just standing there with my mouth open like a stunned researcher. It was incredible. So...back to the ped's to get a different scrip, back to the store to search for dye-free Motrin, and setting up a little shrine to good old Dr. Feingold, may he rest in dye-free peace.