I grew up believing sexual instruction cricket

vibrator, biography, interracial porn, gynecologist and patient., tit, gender, lucia mauro, for, literature k, cricket, truth, mymother/my self : the daughter's search for identity, newspapers, rodneydangerfield, sociology, chicago alternative newsweeklies, blonde, sex while pregnant, fetish, nifty, travel, asianthumbs, I would sexual instruction often lurk about my friends' kitchens watching their mothers lovingly produce fresh salads and hearty soups. The Italian ones tortured me with sexual instruction the pasta sauces and lasagna. During lunch time these same sexual instruction friends magically produced carefully crafted sandwiches on bulkie rolls, little sprigs of romaine jutting out just over the herb-strewn tuna salad. I glanced down at the peanut butter and butter sandwich my mother had sat on before flinging it into my Partridge Family lunch box and wished my real parents would come back and get me. Surely I had been switched at birth. By some cruel twist of fate my real mother was out there saddled with some kid who wanted to shoot baskets and eat butter while I had been sent home with a woman who had no sense of appreciation for my interest in jewelry, evening gowns, and home cooking. My fake mother knew that something was amiss as well.
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I grew up believing that spaghetti was pink and came, quite naturally, out of a can. In fact, until the age of 12, I mistook my mother's maiden name for Boy-ar-dee. Convenience foods lined our cabinet shelves: Mary Kitchen's corned-beef hash, Armour's chipped beef, and Campbell's Bean-with-Bacon soup. The freezer overflowed with Swanson's TV dinners, Weaver's frozen fried chicken, and lima beans, the only vegetable ever to find its way onto our cricket table. A two-pound wad of Land-o-Lakes cheese, encased in cricket an ancient Tupperware container, could usually be found drying out behind the long-forgotten leftovers that had gone green with penicillin spores. An unwieldy container of margarine took center stage in the refrigerator and formed the very foundation of my parents' diet.
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