In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Night and Day.”
Today’s post is going to be a little dorky, fair warning.
So the first thing that came to mind when reading this, was my experiences with mashed potatoes. The first time I ever had the ability to consume potatoes that had been boiled and mushed together was when I was five or six. The setting; my great grandmother’s house. The context; my great uncle had slopped a spoonful of pungant smelling white mush on my plate, and I knew I was going to be forced to eat it. Before anyone could force me to consume the blob on my plate I went ahead and tried a bite, and this is what I experienced; the forkful hit my tongue, burning it, and in an attempt to remove the molten lava that was mashed potato from my mouth I jerked the fork out of my mouth and slit the side of my tongue open. From here, I did NOT enjoy the taste of potatoes that had way too much salt, an open wound in my mouth that was bleeding (which didn’t help the taste), and a frankly unpleasant burning sensation. Even though I refused to try any form of potatoes (excluding french fries) for four or five years, I finally got up the courage to try the mashed variety again, and of course they were the delicious and buttery amazingness that are mashed potatoes.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “From the Top.”
I have pondered the topic of redoing my life several times. With a cynical sort of view point I have to say that I would not redo my life as myself or anyone else. I say cynical because my reasoning for avoiding repitition is not that I absolutely love my life, it’s that I’d really rather prefer not to suffer through another life. Therefore, to answer the stated question, no, I would not redo my life if I had the option.