It makes you sick, sad, happy and maybe obsessed about tinned tomato's.
Five year old Ol was sick immediately after both his two doses, first time was extremely bad - made worse because he'd had several attempts to swallow the capsule first. Apparently The Man, in his wisdom has not got enough Tamiflu, so is saving all the liquid form for babies. Five year olds and under must learn immediately to swallow.
Then three year old J had a turn, sick first go, second go really really alarming. She was in bed at about nine in the evening, we heard a laugh and popped in to her room to find her giggling uncontrollably. She seemed to know we were there fairly soon and then started making jokes at us (e.g. Daddy you are big and pointing in a threatening comedy value). Tempted to run but worried her head might spin around, or worse she was hallucinating.
Edit:Just grilled J about her laughing, she says she saw my feet and was laughing at me. I told her I wasn't there - she said I was. Poor thing is having visions of me and my feet in the middle of the night.
And so to me...the other night Lovely M made a vegetarian shepherds pie for dinner (bear with me) but he added tinned tomato's, which to be fair are in the recipe but we decided some years ago against them in the dish. And they were just there - sort of slimy looking, and red. In fact the whole thing was a little red for me. I almost couldn't eat it but managed as is lovely after all to have dinner made for you - and seems a bit churlish to reject tomato's when I'd just eaten them the day before.
And to come to today - I made a normally lovely three bean chilli (from a low GI cookbook) and at the last minute of additions added some bloody tinned tomato's. I even carefully checked they were not the Bad Value Ones, but real - ish. The chilli was nice, but I was alarmed to see the tomato's just lurking there adding nothing. And now I can't get them out of my head.
I've been worrying about tinned tomato's for the whole day, you know that way when something obsessional pops in to your head every few minutes. And it just won't leave tomato's, tomato's, tomato's.
I'm expecting to wake up in the night screaming about them. Either that or painting some.