Everyone has their own personal form of kryptonite. Mine is cilantro. Yes, you read that correctly. I have the unfortunate ability to taste cilantro in the very air if it's in the room and it is the most vile thing in the world. My stomach turns, I break into a sweat, I get all weak and then I have to go dive into something chocolate to forget the horror of it all. I'm not kidding. My friend Vicki makes a to-die-for Hawaiin salsa that I can't get enough of. I thought she was so sweet to make me my own bowl of it, then I found out that the main recipie had cilantro in it... and she's such a great friend that she took out my portion before she added cilantro to the main batch.
I luf her.
Abby's kryptonite is broccoli. David was foolish enough to demand that she try a large piece of it while at a restaurant with other family members. Apparantly the gag reflex is genetic. She lost the broccoli and most of her dinner on the floor immediately.
Evie's kryptonite is her rocking horse. The 70's version that is suspended by the Springs-Of-Death. No one, and I mean no one, is getting on that horse if Evie is around. If you try, she comes at you like.... well, like a 29 pound linebacker with a voice matching the pitch and octave of a smoke alarm.
We all have our limits.