** Caution: Could be triggering **
I don’t eat fish. I hate fish. I know it’s good for you. Omega 3s and all that. But I hate it.
It’s smelly. Slimey. Wriggly. Sticky. Squooshy.
Fish have beady eyes that look at you, even when they’re dead.
Fish have smelly, sticky blood that gets into everything. Scales that stick to you. The knife that’s long and got a big wavy blade. The yellow handle that always smells fishy. And fish have lots of bones. Tiny ones that hurt.
And when you cook it, it smells worse.
That smell gets into everything. Not just the kitchen, but the hallways and other rooms. It gets into the soft furnishings and the paintwork. It gets stuck in your throat and it takes forever to go away. It gets on the hands and it NEVER gets off them.
My father loves fish. And he used to love fishing. Big hands. Sticky and smelly with fish.
I am 7 or 8 (who can tell?). I don’t want the fish. It’s yucky. There’s potato, too. And carrots. He picks up the fish and forces me to eat it. Fish flesh and bones. All mushed up. The smell. The big hands. Smelly hands.
So, no, I don’t eat fish anymore. I don’t care how many Omega 3s it’s got.