Peanut butter and Strawberries

I love peanut butter, maybe more than any other food.  When my first daughter was born nearly two years ago, I watched carefully and fearfully for the deadly peanut allergy. Many sticky sandwiches and handprints on my furniture later, that fear has been alleviated.  Even now, she sits in my lap eating peanuts. However I made a startling realization this week. 

I grow strawberries in a raised bed, next to the main garden.  Near the end of the growing season, my oldest discovered she could rummage in the bed and find leftover strawberries to pick.  This happened when there were only a few stragglers left, so she didn't have many.  Sometime around then, she developed a yeast infection.  I'm not joking.  The doctor was baffled by it, but gave us a prescription safe for her to use, and we used it for months.  The infection seemed stubborn, but in the last month has cleared up well, and looked great.

I finally got brave enough to go to the store alone, with my newborn and her.  As we finished up in produce with her allotment of apples, we passed the rack of strawberries.  She shreiked in delight, so I went back for them.  I think she ate half the container that day while I cleaned and she played.  That night at bath time, I discovered the rash on her again, more angry, bumpy and terrifiying than I hate ever seen it.  And back so suddenly.  Then my tired brain made the connection.  Shoot.  Strawberries.

She goes back to the doctor next month, so we need to test to be sure, but I don't doubt that's the problem.  I hid the rest from her, and she's begun to clear up again.  Although her health is important, I may still cry when my husband tills up the strawberry bed to rid her of the temptation and frustration.