Recently, some friends of mine have diagnosed themselves as lactose intolerant. One realized that milk in her coffee could result in hours of pain, the other was a lapsed vegan and spent an evening in the fetal position after reintroducing dairy to her routine. We went for frozen yogurt on a perfect May Saturday, and after her first bite of her tiny cup of Tasti D, she sighed. “It’s sooo good, but it’s going to hurt so much later. Can’t believe I forgot my Lactaid.”

As I took another bite of my own frozen yogurt, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for suggesting ice cream. She had only mentioned it in passing once, and I had completely forgotten about her allergy. Read More »