My father had been repackaging a gigantic pack of raw chicken breasts into smaller freezer packs.
There was raw chicken juice all over the cutting board, the counter, everywhere basically.
He grabbed a cleaning cloth and wiped the counter down, then without rinsing it, proceeded to wash his face with it.
Yes, I grew up with a tremendous amount of food issues because of my father. He poisoned us nearly weekly. It was only in my later adulthood where I simply established a rule that I would not eat a single thing that he prepared.
Still, I keep picturing your dad, basking in sweat, running a pho shop in Ho Chi Minh in the summertime or the like, wiping his brow with chicken-stock soaked dish towels.
My father had been repackaging a gigantic pack of raw chicken breasts into smaller freezer packs.
There was raw chicken juice all over the cutting board, the counter, everywhere basically.
He grabbed a cleaning cloth and wiped the counter down, then without rinsing it, proceeded to wash his face with it.
Yes, I grew up with a tremendous amount of food issues because of my father. He poisoned us nearly weekly. It was only in my later adulthood where I simply established a rule that I would not eat a single thing that he prepared.
What the almighty fuck.
Oh dude the stories I could tell you
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legit lol thank you ahaha
I’m just glad someone had some idea what I was trying to describe.
You made me feel old with that reference haha
Kinda sucks, doesn’t it?
Still, I keep picturing your dad, basking in sweat, running a pho shop in Ho Chi Minh in the summertime or the like, wiping his brow with chicken-stock soaked dish towels.