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How I fed Peepeye, Poopeye, Pupeye and Pipeye

mycookinglifebypatty

As a child, I’m sure I was no easy ride for my mother when it came to feeding me. I heard the stories about how they tried all kinds of milk looking for one I was willing to drink. Apparently I didn’t like goat’s milk, cow’s milk or any other kind of milk.  Not sure what Mom ended up doing about that. Maybe I was just a naturally smart kid.  I am not lactose intolerant, though I don’t drink milk or milk products and haven’t for over thirty-five years.  I figured I was weaned a long time ago and didn’t need it anymore.

I remember one or two evenings spent sitting at the dinner table by myself staring at some ice-cold food that had been served to me hours ago. I was destined to sit there until said food was consumed.  That happened once with spinach.  It was my own…

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MANON KUBLER. PERIODISTA , ESCRITORA EN RETIRADA. A LA SAGA DE UNA NUEVA CRONICA. PREPARO MIS BALAS. EXPULSO MIS FUEGOS. AFINO MIS LLAGAS. AVANZO. ME DEMORO. VUELVO A AVANZAR. BUSCO ESTOMAGOS QUE SUJETEN TOXICOS Y EXTREMOS. AQUI ESTOY, A LA SAGA, VIVIA Y SOBREVIVIDA PARA LA ALEGRIA DE POCOS, SALUD MANON

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