Ever since I learned how to open the fridge by myself, there hasn’t been a day that has gone by in which I wasn’t in there scavenging for food. When I was about 3 or 4 years old, I looked through the fridge and found a stack of American cheese wrapped in plastic. I was hungry and I had never really tasted cheese before. I unwrapped it, took just one bite, and immediately realized that I had just made the worst decision of my life. Even today, I still can’t tolerate neither the taste nor the smell of American cheese. How ironic that the bite of food I remember the best is the worst thing I’ve ever had.
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