On all of our long car trips in this country, the resounding cry between my husband and myself has always been, "Thank God for Tim-Jeezely-Hortons!!"
Let's face it. There are uppers in that coffee. It is simply not possible that a couple of large double-doubles and a walnut crunch should be enough sustenance to fuel a man to drive from Vancouver to Edmonton, practically non-stop, in under twelve hours... which, not too many years ago, my husband did. Yes, Tim's is the driver's best friend, without a doubt, and a good thing, too-- there are plenty of kilometers to cover in this great stretch of a country of ours.
Today, we faced the drive to Ottawa with great fortitude, and with faith that Tim's would, once again, see us through. Tim would help make the unbearable five hour journey with children, bearable. Oh, yes, the girlies love Tim, too-- they all have, right from an early age. One of Child Number One's very first requests was for a "Horton", which was her way of asking for a timbit... Child Number Three has coined the term "fuffin" for this miniature delicacy.
So, when the cries from the back seat became more than the adults could bear this afternoon, my husband and I began looking for the familiar red-and-white road signs that would guide us to Horton Heaven.
We ordered, among other items, a box of 20 assorted timbits, which was attacked by the children with their usual ferocious glee. Once the kids had had their fill, I chose one of the remaining bits from the bottom of the box-- sour cream glazed are my favourites.
It wasn't till I'd put the timbit into my mouth and chewed a few times that a strange taste sensation hit me... Something tasted not quite "vanilla", but rather... fruity. My mind clicked-- and the panic hit me.
I couldn't keep chewing... I had to get the taste out of my mouth... because the one thing I am deathly allergic to is the common strawberry. All red berries, actually. I'm not talking just-a-few-hives allergic, people, I'm talking about emergency-tracheotomy allergic. I shouted to my eldest daughter to run to the car for my medicine, and was luckily able to get it into my system before any symptoms of serious reaction started. Thank heavens, the worst that happened was a headache and a wicked case of heartburn. I'm a little itchy this evening, but I'm just so happy to be sitting in a hotel and not a hospital room, I am putting up with the scratching without any complaints!!
My question is, when the hell did Tim decide to start sneaking red berries into the sour cream timbits?! Nobody told ME about it, I have never heard of such a thing. I know to stay away from what Child Number Two calls the "squeezy" variety of timbit-- you know, the ones with the fruity jam inside them... I won't go into why she calls them "squeezy" tonight. But, nobody warned me that my favourite variety might be booby-trapped.
I am an Adult. I take responsibility for my own allergy. I don't go charging into restaurants like a maniac waving a medic-alert bracelet, but couldn't Tim's have WARNED US that their strawberry season had started early this year??! Or were they just too overwhelmed with promoting their Triple Chocolate Sensation campaign?
Well, it was an eventful way to start off the "holiday weekend", that's for sure. Nothing like a good panic to give you a little cardio workout and raise the ol' blood pressure a bit...
Oh, well. The hotel is lovely, the kids are all asleep (for now), and we're anticipating a good day at the Tulip Festival on Friday.
And Tim? Hope you don't mind, buddy, but we'll be finding another place to have lunch tomorrow.