My dad liked to boil a squirrel head and suck the brains out the nose. Smaller than a chicken, bigger than a rat.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I had to make squirrel noises as Bubbles and without realizing it, I was making the face and putting my fingers up to my face to look like a squirrel and everyone made fun of me for the rest of the day.
My dad's a doctor, and when I was 8, I went to one of his medical conferences where they were demonstrating laser surgery on a chicken. I was so mad that a chicken had to die, I never ate meat again.
Growing up I felt like my nose was big. I was always like, 'I'm going to get a nose job one day'. I'm glad I didn't.
The thought of eating rabbit and squirrels doesn't appeal to me. And that was on our table quite often as a kid. In your uppity restaurants, they serve a lot of rabbit. But I just can't help but think of Peter. And deer, I can't go there, because of Bambi.
I remember having mice in the house and my father taking some newspaper and beating me because mice was running on me while I was asleep.
A squirrel is just a rat with a cuter outfit!
In school, I was a beanpole with a nose I hadn't grown into.
My grandmother did all the cooking at Christmas. We ate fattened chicken. We would feed it even more so it would be big and fat.
I credit my grandmother for teaching me to love and respect food. She taught me how to waste nothing, to make sure I used every bit of the chicken and boil the bones till no flavor could be extracted from them.
I see my large nose, like half an avocado. I broke it falling downstairs when I was six, and it now resembles a large blob of play-dough.