#nut allergies

  “I can’t eat those,” says Butters, giving the cookies a strange look. He pushes the plate back towards the other end of the coffee table, near Stan’s glass of milk.   They’re just a couple of store-bought cookies, but Stan doesn’t think there’s anything particular wrong with them. He pokes at one with his finger. “Are they stale? I, uh, don’t think they’re that old.”   Butters snorts, rolls his eyes. He pulls his sock-clad feet up onto the couch. “Well, I wouldn’t know if they’re stale or not, ‘cause I can’t taste them. Those have nuts in them.”   “Yeah. Pecans, I think.” Stan left the packaging in the kitchen. He’s not positive what they were.   “Right. So I can’t eat them.” Butters has that look on his face, like Stan should already know this. “You know, ‘cause of my allergies?”   Stan shakes his head. He gives Butters a sheepish sort of smile. “Uh, no? Sorry, Butters. I, uh, didn’t know that you had allergies. To, uh, pecans?”   “Nuts, Stan. I got real bad allergies to nuts. They make me get all swollen and wheezy.” Butters pats Stan on the knee. It’s meant to be comforting but doesn’t actually come off that way. “S’kay. I’m pretty good about checkin’ on stuff like that before I chow down. “   Butters says that it’s okay, but Stan can’t stop thinking about it. There’s a lot about Butters that Stan should know but doesn’t – a throw back to being a kid that didn’t really care, wrapped up within his own friend group, within his own thoughts.   It’s just that there are lot of things like that, and most of them Stan can’t do anything about. Most of them, Stan just has to suck it up and deal with it.   This time, though, he catches Butters later that week. He slips into the empty seat across from Butters and slides a small package of cookies towards him. “Hey. I, uh, got these for you.”   “What? That’s awful nice’a you, Stan.” Butters pulls the package a little closer. “These look real good.”   “They’re strawberry,” says Stan, even though the package clearly says that. “I’m really sorry, Butters. About, uh, before. I don’t remember you saying anything about being allergic to anything.”   Butters looks back down at the package of wafer cookies. When he grins, it’s all white teeth and dimples. “You didn’t have to do that, Stan. It’s real sweet, though. You gonna sit here and share them with me, or do you got plans with Kyle today?”   “I was hoping to sit here?” Stan gives the other boy a sheepish smile.   Butters pops open the package of cookies and passes them out. “That’s what I was hoping you would say!”