I’m shocked.
Not so much by the news of the entire population of the North American continent going down with food poisoning from eating bagged spinach, but by the lack of respect shown to growing childen.
One mother, Marina Zecevic, said she made the mistake of serving creamed spinach to her kids the day the story (of the contamination) broke.
No, Marina, your mistake was the heinous creaming of the spinach in the first place. In my day, no self respecting child would stand for such a blatant disregard of Human Rights
Food plays such a large part in our character, it shapes our very souls. My generation gained tolerance through the wheatgerm which marred our porridge, fortitude from the boiled cabbage, and the daily teaspoon of cod liver oil constantly strengthened our righteous anger.
We survived the hideous practice of Free Milk in Schools and dutifully swallowed, every day at lunch, a warm bottle of clotted, curdled milk which had been sitting in the sun since sparrow-fart.
We were a tough bunch.
And no one would have dared to serve us creamed spinach.