Personal Narrative: Gerber's Baby Food
Growing up in a German-American family, dinner included pork, overcooked vegetables, and “instant” mashed potatoes. As a teenager, I was dissatisfied with mom’s Betty Crocker potato mush. In my opinion, it had no texture and bland flavor, reminding me of Gerber’s baby food. I wondered if she was grooming me for the NASA space program or preparing for an emergency evacuation and making sure these dehydrated potato flakes were nearby. “Brad, what would you like me to make for dinner?” I replied, “Mom, can you please make beef and noodles with green bean casserole?” She fulfilled the simple request, but included the mashed potatoes despite objections. When I see someone eating them now, it takes me back to a humorous moment that occurred 30 years ago. My sister spoon fed my
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I had ordered scrambled eggs and for some reason, they were prepared “sunny-side up”. Runny egg yolks bring back unpleasant memories of my pre-teen years. During my 6th grade science class, we spent 4-6 weeks completing a chick hatching project. The kit included a fan incubator, automatic turner, lamp brooder, thermometer, feeders, plastic jars, vitamin pack, fertilized eggs, and accompanying learning materials. Throughout the project we learned about the embryonic development of chicks. I remember the poster, full of gruesome pictures like bloody veins and grotesque heads surrounding the egg yolk. Another picture had a man in a lab coat cracking an egg with an undeveloped chick embryo still inside the shell. I was so mortified from this ordeal; I could not eat eggs until years later. And even then, they had to be fully-cooked scrambled eggs and hard boiled eggs. The thought of eating a sandwich with runny egg yolks dripping down the sides activates the “gag reflex”. I disliked grade school science classes because it robbed me the joy of eating certain foods. The old adage, “Ignorance is bliss” does ring
I had ordered scrambled eggs and for some reason, they were prepared “sunny-side up”. Runny egg yolks bring back unpleasant memories of my pre-teen years. During my 6th grade science class, we spent 4-6 weeks completing a chick hatching project. The kit included a fan incubator, automatic turner, lamp brooder, thermometer, feeders, plastic jars, vitamin pack, fertilized eggs, and accompanying learning materials. Throughout the project we learned about the embryonic development of chicks. I remember the poster, full of gruesome pictures like bloody veins and grotesque heads surrounding the egg yolk. Another picture had a man in a lab coat cracking an egg with an undeveloped chick embryo still inside the shell. I was so mortified from this ordeal; I could not eat eggs until years later. And even then, they had to be fully-cooked scrambled eggs and hard boiled eggs. The thought of eating a sandwich with runny egg yolks dripping down the sides activates the “gag reflex”. I disliked grade school science classes because it robbed me the joy of eating certain foods. The old adage, “Ignorance is bliss” does ring