Oh Lord ME TOO.

And my mom used to cook them in EVERYTHING. Back in the day, you know, when you ate what your mom made for dinner, unless you wanted the same plate plopped down in front of you the next morning for breakfast.

She would scoff at my heightened gag response and tell me to “just pick the peppers out and eat the rest.”

But THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE! Whatever is cooked with bell peppers may as well be wearing a bell pepper suit because that’s what it’s going to taste like.

Ah, childhood.

I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, but I know I want it to be spelled right and punctuated correctly. I guess that’s something.

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