Eating

It used to be my most loathed life essential, now it's merely just not my favorite. I suppose that's because I'm too lazy to cook and too penny pinchery to fine dine. Don't get me wrong, I love good food, it's just such an annoyance to have to find it that I usually end up eating quick and less than delicious meals.

That said, I once ate rabbit.

Unimpressed? Me too. I didn't know I was eating rabbit. I was 12 and with a bunch of other 12 year olds, one of whom (who?) would have had a conniption if she knew she was eating rabbit, so they told us all it was chicken. I thought it was the weirdest looking and blandest tasting chicken I'd ever had, and felt smart when I found out why. Then I realized I ate rabbit.

A few years later at my lola's 80th birthday party, (where the following exchange occured:

My Mother: (to my Aunt) Where's Lola?
My Aunt: She's right over there.
My Mother: Oh!! Haha! I didn't recognize her with that damn wig!)

I ate snake. Snake soup.

I knew it too. Oddly enough, it tasted like chicken.