Of Christmas Trees and Deodorants
Sunday, January 25th, 2009For most of my childhood, I was a scrawny little boy that didn't eat very much. I developed a habit of eating junk food before dinner, eating while watching TV, and leaving half bowl full of food sitting around while doing homework. Even when Mom forced me to sit at the dinner table, eventually I'll find a way to migrate over to the TV and my desk. Neither Mom or I could've predicted how much I would grow to love food. Oh, the miracles of puberty.
As irony would have it, my puberty wouldn't arrive until I moved to America to live with Dad. It's almost as if all those years of begging to finish my dinner was completely pointless, as Dad took all the credit for my healthy development into a young adult with little and no effort. Not that my Dad was a terrible cook, in fact he was a terrific cook when he had the time; but it was also a fact that Dad could've fed me anything remotely resembling human food, and I would've gladly shoveled them with complete disregard to the actual content.