Alone at home, I was making lunch while distracted and tired from the brutal combination of late-night gigs and early-morning baby minding.
I was eating a fresh apricot to keep my energy up. Oooh, get me. Fresh apricots. Like a decadent Roman emperor. This was my first time, I promise. They’d had them at Tesco Metro and like a wide-eyed post-war child seeing his first banana, I couldn’t resist.
But my fruit-based vanity combined with parental exhaustion nearly killed me because I wasn’t paying enough attention and gobbled up the stone as well as the flesh. I was sure I could feel the apricot pit lodged in my throat. I coughed and experienced the kind of discomfort… Read the full story