The time I figured out food was trying to kill me

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Back when I was a kid, I couldn’t understand why anyone would want to drink milk. The taste was nothing special, and since it made my lips and tongue itchy and made it hard to swallow, what was the point? Ice cream and cheese were fine because the taste made up for the discomfort, but why drink milk?

When I was around age fourteen or fifteen, the little town in Maine where my family always went for a week in the summer had a very sudden and very dramatic boom in the soft serve industry. Every business in town sold soft serve, and we went to a different one every night. I remember at the end of the week, as I was finishing a chocolate and peanut butter ice cream shake, I began to think that maybe the chest and neck pain wasn’t really worth it.

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