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 nauseated |
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As it wasn't enough having the doctor remove pieces of my insides today!
An hour ago, Dwayne gave me half of his bean burrito. I dipped it in ranch-seasoned sour cream, took a bite, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, chewed, swallowed, and then glanced down and noticed that the burrito in my hand was actually beef.
At that moment, I considered running to the bathroom and forcing myself to puke. But then I decided I hate puking more than I hate the idea that I just ate beef for the first time in over eighteen years.
Now, I'm kind of wishing I'd gone with the puking plan.
For the record, no, I didn't taste the difference. The dressing has a very strong taste and covered it up. But I did feel the difference in my mouth. Oh, and Dwayne apologized several times. He says he ordered "bean." So, it was Taco Time who messed up.
Here are my meat-consumption stats:
Last ate beef at age 12. (Until the one bite I had today.)
Last ate chicken and turkey at age 16.
Last ate fish at age 16. (Except for the bite I had at age 20, and the bite I had at age 25.)
The only other meats I've ever had are pork, prawns, shrimp, oyster, and crab. Those were all before I was 12 and only tried on one or two occasions each.
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silly