Four out of five narcissists agree: the human race is an imperfect lot. Even our DNA earns its keep by making errors . . . what we call “evolution”. Like most humans, I carry with me a plethora of dysfunction wherever I go. A few are physical—most are not. They don’t eat much, but they help make me who I am, for better or worse, so I proudly call them my own.
This is their story …
Asparagus, Broccoli & Shellfish—Oh My!
Okay, I admit it. I eat like a five-year-old.
My texture issues followed me like hungry kittens into adulthood: where foods like kiwi or mushrooms or cooked squash are too slimy to be beheld; where my bitterness sensitivity make bell peppers (only the green ones), capers and grape leaves inedible; and where a strange genetic mutation transforms guacamole and sour cream into an inert, tasteless nothingness on my tongue.
But these maladjustments barely scratch the surface of my culinary weirdness …
Shellfish, no matter how gourmet in preparation, smells to me like decomposing garbage. To think of ingesting it as a food is to risk projectile vomiting. I had to type the previous sentence very carefully.
Asparagus, on the other hand, has nothing more than a bitter aroma to me, but my throat closes up just to be in the same room where it’s cooking. Attempting to eat any of it would be improbable at best. And asparagus has a unique way of taking over the sweat glands of its victims, so if you’ve eaten some of it in the last few days, please don’t be insulted when I move far away from you.
I don’t want to talk about broccoli, other than to warn you: Do not under any circumstances allow me to eat this in your presence . . . unless you wish to be among the crowd running for the hills soon after. If anyone has seen the movie Godzilla and the Smog Monster, you know what I mean. Failing to heed this advice may be construed in some countries as a terrorist act.
You have been warned.
“Foibles” was a creative writing class exercise that went awry. It was meant to brainstorm prompts for future writing projects, but I think my instructor stepped back in fright when she saw how long my list was getting. There’s enough foibles here to fuel a year long blog, but I think I’ll scale it back to a foible or two a week (welcome to Foibles Monday).
I don’t want to take you away from the normal things I usually write about here. ~giggle~
soooo many comments *giggle*!!
I must say, I am surprised that not ALL narcissists agree that the human race is an imperfect lot… unless of course the 1 out of 4 was (characteristically) only thinking about himself in the “human race” bit…. yes, that must be it. The other 4 must be only MOSTLY narcissistic.
Shellfish. Only shellfish? Not ALLLLLL fish?! Yeah, I can’t comment on that any more … too much risk of your already-mentioned reflex issues.
Asparagus and broccoli… oh my. (thinking back to early Miki visits, remembering my favorite stirfry recipe: broccoli, onion, celery, brussels sprouts, asparagus, and chicken seasoned with celery salt, onion powder, and garlic powder…. NOM NOM NOM… oh.uhm… i mean… poooooor Miki!) *giggle* If these delish veggies do this to you, no wonder my “odor” was offensive to my coworker *GIGGLE ATTACK*
If evolution is the result of errors, then I must be extremely evolved, because I make a LOT of errors.
So that’s nice to know.
I do think it’s rather strange that some humans like some foods and others find them extremely distasteful, I wonder if that’s also the case with cows? I mean what do you do if you are a cow who doesn’t like grass?, it’s not like you can hop over to the next field and eat some cucumbers instead.
I’m glad I’m not a cow, I don’t think I’d like grass and I might starve, unless they invented chocolate covered or bacon flavoured grass. Also, I’m not fond of the idea of two stomachs, I have enough trouble with this single one already.
All fish should of course be served with chips and only consist of haddock dipped in batter and deep fried, all other forms of seafood are hereby outlawed, banished and declared illegal in the state of Janine.
I would really enjoy having my own state, it’s mascot and tag name would be “confusion” and the flag would be a large pink question mark on a white background. There would always be 2 Sundays each week and we would have a leap month every February. All days are national chocolate day and bacon is mandatory at all breakfasts.
The only law is “be nice and be respectful of everyone and their things”.
Breaking the law is punishable by tickling until you promise not to do it again.
Anyway, I think your foibles are perfectly “nermal” Miki, nothing to worry about there, and you won’t be forced to eat any kiwi, mushrooms, shellfish, asparagus or broccoli when you come to live in “Janine the confusion state”, but you might be encouraged to eat large quantities of chocolate, and possibly pancakes on Tuesdays.
It’s so nice to know my audience is as loony as I am. ~giggle~ huggggggsssss =)
I litelarly jumped out of my chair and danced after reading this!