Nancy Drew tagged me with this. I tell ya, people must think I am plenty weird because I've done this three times here, here, and here already and I'm being begged for more.
1. I don't enjoy the defining foods of the three cultures I consider myself a part of in some way shape or form. I'm Greek by birth but dislike olives. I grew up in Pennsylvania German culture and LOATHE sauerkraut entirely. The smell alone makes me want to vomit. I lived in Trinidad and was given honorary Trini status (and you know from the various recipes I've shared that I love Trini food) but I really don't care for callaloo.
2. I enjoy cooking and consider myself reasonably competent in the kitchen. I am notorious for unintentionally burning grilled cheese sandwiches though.
3. When making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich it is imperative the pb & j be spread on the bread such that not a molecule of the bread surface shows. It cannot, however, dribble down the sides. The layer must be even and the knife clean of excess pb & j before I put it in the sink. And if the sandwich will not be immediately consumed I spread a very thin film of it on the jelly piece of bread before the jelly goes on so it acts as a barrier to prevent the bread getting overly soggy on that side. These are important considerations, people.....even though I almost never eat the sandwiches I make. This condiment spreading rule is suspended for the use of mayonnaise which I find about as appetizing as a jar of snail trails and snot. I do NOT want to risk having any of that nasty white slime touch my fingers so I don't go to the edge of the bread with it. BLECH!!!
4. When I was a kid and watched The Wizard of OZ I was not scared by the flying monkeys (thought they were kind of cool actually) but the guards and their chanting freaked me right out.
5. I feel less anxiety in a dentist's chair than in a hairdresser's chair. Hhhhmmm, could account for having not a single cavity but having 'wild drugged out hippy hair' as Diana likes to call it.
6. Ok, for this last one I'm simply going to relate last night's dinner conversation as an example....
Mr. Lime was playing with a piece of plastic off a bottled drink by pretending it was first an earring, then a nosering, then a nipple ring. Isaac challenged, 'How about a pee-pee ring!' (Mind you, he's all of 11 years old and I had no idea he was even aware of the concept of genital piercings.) I started laughing as I winced at the idea of such tender bits having needles near them while Mr. Lime made like a macho man and grunted in a deep voice, 'Bring it on!' Isaac retorted dryly, 'Yeah right, Dad. You squeal like a girl over spiders.'
Such are the dinner conversations at Chez Lime.
In case you want more evidence of our strange conversations check here and here. Go on, check, they are short and you know you want to.