My darling readers, let me tell you about the weekend that reminded me that sometimes a grandmother's enthusiasm can outweigh her common sense—but it was worth it!

After two long months of wearing masks around my precious granddaughter Sagey (doctor's orders!), we finally got the news we'd been waiting for – she had her first round of vaccinations. My heart could barely contain itself, knowing I'd finally get to shower those chubby cheeks with unrestricted kisses! My husband and I made the 80-mile journey from our quiet corner of Riverside County to Los Angeles, both of us giddy as teenagers on a first date.

Let me tell you, holding that baby girl without a mask was pure heaven. After raising two wonderful but rowdy boys, having a granddaughter is like playing with a doll I never had—except this one makes the most adorable cooing sounds and already has her grandpa wrapped around her tiny finger. Watching her drift off to sleep in my arms, I felt like I could sit there forever.

But then my stomach growled, and that's where the trouble began. Living in Riverside County, finding good BBQ is as rare as finding a penguin in the desert. So when my son mentioned Woody's BBQ in Inglewood, my taste buds rebelled against my better judgment. Even my husband, usually the voice of reason, was all for it. (I later discovered he only had one bite – that crafty man!)

The pork ribs and beef links were everything we'd hoped for. That sauce! That tenderness! That moment when you know you're making a decision your body will hate you for, but your soul is doing a happy dance!

Fast forward to the following day back home, and oh boy, did my right leg have some choice words for me. The gout flare-up hit like a freight train, and I was doing my "gout shuffle" around the house. In my panic (and not thinking straight), I reached for that natural gout tea I'd bought during one of our late-night research sessions when my husband and I first started dealing with gout. You know the one – that Black Cherry Fruit Extract concoction that tastes like someone brewed a tea bag filled with regret.

Let me save you some pain and money, dear readers: that tea? It's about as effective as putting out a forest fire with a water pistol. And the taste? Imagine licking a tree while someone describes cherry candy to you. Not exactly a culinary delight.

What I SHOULD have done – and what my doctor has told me repeatedly – was take my prescribed Colchicine BEFORE indulging in that heavenly BBQ. It's sitting right there in my medicine cabinet, probably shaking its head at me in disappointment.

The moral of this story? Sometimes, love makes us do silly things – love for our grandbabies, for BBQ, and even misplaced love for natural remedies. But next time, I'll remember that while kisses from Sagey are the best medicine for my soul, Colchicine is the best medicine for my gout!

P.S. Was the BBQ worth it? Ask me again after my next flare-up! 😉