if it were a movie it would go like this

ENT.  LIVING ROOM

MOM enters, sees HEATHER sitting on couch.

MOM: How was the animal shelter?
HEATHER: Good.
MOM: Did you go to the gym afterward?
HEATHER: No, but that’s because I had a cough going on when I left –– like I was short of breath, or –– It’s the um, the dust I think, powder from the litter ––
MOM: (thunderous, triumphant) I always knew you were allergic to cats!
HEATHER: (scandalized) I am not allergic to cats!

EXT. LIVING ROOM

Cue MONTAGE: bringing the family cat home when HEATHER is a child, Googling “cat allergy,” HEATHER arriving home from college and sneezing up a storm, MOM talking to DAD in concern while gesturing to sleeping cat on the floor.  Slow zoom on a computer screen listing the symptoms of cat allergies.  Perhaps a circular shot of HEATHER reading symptom list; that would be nice.  Musical setting of the montage ought to be ominous and orchestral (lots of violins, lots of cellos).

ENT. LIVING ROOM

HEATHER: (staring in horror at laptop screen) Suddenly it all makes sense!

_______________________________________

Guys, this is how preposterous my life is.  We’ve had a cat for almost seventeen years, yet I only realized today that I am (albeit mildly) allergic to cats.  And only then once my mom insisted upon it.  She’s teased me about it before, even! But I thought she was kidding.  I mean, Wikipedia says that you typically develop a desensitization to your own cat, but still.  Wikipedia, I know you tried, but you’re not making me feel like any less of a dumbass today.  You’re just not.

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