Untamellama - A Blog

I am Barbara.

This was me for most of my childhood and with good reason.

Storytime: It is the spring of 2009. I was six years old and tomatoes were just another vegetable to me. Until they became the most amazing thing ever. Our neighbors got us a whole lot of cherry tomatoes. They were so beautiful and cute and I consumed them with much glee and gratitude.

All was well. But not for long.

My mother decided to pack me these cherry tomatoes for snacks at school. And. being the good daughter I was, I diligently consumed all of it. The period after the break, I began feeling queasy. Something wasn't right. And before I could figure out what was up, chewed, partially digested cherry tomatoes rose up from the pits of my stomach to my mouth and gushed out, spreading the now vile smell of those wretched tomatoes, a stupefied teacher watching in a classroom full of slimy six-year-olds.

I didn't eat raw tomatoes again till I was thirteen.

Can I get an amen?