Someone noticed...

...that I don't like carrots. There are lots of vegetables that I don't like, but when I was growing up, my mother stuck a carrot in my hand at least three times a week. I was scarred. Kids these days have it so easy with their baby carrots. Back in my day, I had to suffer full-grown carrots with their bitter cores and all. Complaints fell on deaf ears.

Though I did have a choice: eat the carrot before dinner or after dinner. But the only time I had reprieve from eating the carrot was the ever-so-welcome summer when I instead had to water-log my kid-belly with half a cantaloupe to get my vitamins. Luckily, I can still somewhat enjoy a cantaloupe. A full size carrot? No. I can't really even stomach a baby carrot. I buy bags of them with good intentions only to see them get slimy and rotted on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. I will occasionally slip some into a lasagna, tofu noodle salad or eat the artfully-carved carrot garnish at the local Thai restaurant, but for the most part, I leave carrots to the rabbits. I know; I'm a bad vegetarian.

Related: the truth about baby carrots.