1988. This year was prominent for me because it’s the first year I have very strong memories. I watched my first love scene (Dirty Dancing), my first horror movie (Nightmare on Elm Street), and Charlotte’s Web taught me about death for the first time. But out of every memory I have from 1988, nothing – and I mean nothing – will ever compete with the horror I felt when my Dad made me eat liver for the first time.
I can still see it, smell it, and taste it. In fact right now, if I close my eyes, I can hear my Dad say, “You will not get up from that table till you finish your dinner. Just put ketchup on it.” I could smell it and was certain that I would get sick if I put it in my mouth; – and that’s just what I did – everywhere. As the crocodile tears poured from my eyes, I sobbed, “I knew I wouldn’t like it!”
I still can’t stand ketchup being anywhere near meat because of the liver incident. But I have always been thankful that my parents exposed me to so many different foods. There was even a year we went to a different ethnic restaurant every month. I would never wish liver upon my worst enemy (although I have heard people actually like it) but I hope that everyone explores out of their food comfort zone every once in a while; It can make for some unforgettable memories!
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