2002-05-03 | 10:18 p.m.
rethinking

i hate potatoes.

my mom says i wouldn't eat them from the time i was a baby. i remember sitting at the table for hours (that's hours in kid time, it may not actually have been that long) in a battle of wills with my mom. "you're gonna sit there until you eat them," she'd say, "and they'll taste better if you eat them while they're still warm."

ha! i knew potatoes could never taste "better" because this would imply that there was some level of goodness there. so i would sit and sit and sit poking the potatoes with my fork and hearing my siblings enjoying themselves in other parts of the house. this would inevitably become unbearable, and i'd finally gag the potatoes down (i never chewed, just swallowed whole chunks). oh, it was horrible!

i bring this up because last weekend when i was visiting my jeff, i had potatoes on two separate occasions (one was french fries at the kitchen and the other was seasoned 'tatoes at the cash cow), and i didn't mind them! actually, i kinda liked 'em. it freaked me out.

now, at the time of each of these incidences, i chalked it up to getting old, and maybe that's true... but, looking back on it, i think it might also (and more probably) be just that everything seems to be better when i'm with him.