Sunday, July 18, 2010

Won't

I love my readers. Can I just take a second and say that? Because really, right now I need every single one of you. In a strange and beautiful sort of way, you all are making me stick to my plans. Making me rack my brain to find something to write about. Making me find the humor in life when it seems to be so terribly lacking. Making me think about something, anything else. For that, I thank you all. I love you guys.

I have only about a million things I want to write about but won't.

And sometimes it's hard to think about anything else.

In the spirit of won't, here's something else I won't do. I won't eat anything without smelling it first. Nothing. Nada. Just. Can't. Do. It.

I think that it's a survival mechanism I developed as a baby. When I was about four months old, I spent quite a while in the hospital. I got food poisoning from a jar of Gerber baby food and just about died. There were many babies that didn't make it.

I say that this quirk of mine is attributable to the food poisoning incident because I have had it for as long as anyone can remember. Like, even as a baby I did it.

It isn't something that I developed when I got older and became aware of food borne illnesses. It isn't something I started doing when I realized where meat came from or when I started cooking for myself, though those are both pretty good times to pick up a habit like mine. I've always done it.

It's something that anyone who has spent any measurable length of time with me has noticed. It's pretty obvious, I suppose. And it's not just the first bite of something, the rest deemed safe in my head. It is every single one.

It's also something that drives my husband crazy. I'm always throwing food out. The second anything upsets my olfactory sensibilities, it's outta here. Even the food that he and his nose deem perfectly harmless. Out it goes.

I know I'm strange. But at least I can make the argument that I have a good reason. I did almost die once.

2 comments:

  1. How'd you handle being PG...that must have driven you mad. I made Robert cook outside in the snow while I was PG w/ Charlotte...couldn't walk in the kitchen w/out getting sick. And I can never go back to Taco Johns

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  2. I don't think I ever cooked chicken while pregnant. And I always made someone else clean the turkey and put it in the roaster on holidays. I'd do the rest, but touching raw poultry...no thanks. LOL

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