I will always be young at heart, but I’m a stodgy old grandma in stomach.
I should know–I just spent the past week with my grandma and spent every mealtime sitting side by side shoveling the same pile of the mushiest, creamiest, dissolveable-iest edible stuff into our mouths. With matching chopsticks and purple down jackets, I might add. (We’re pretty cute like that.)
A huge part of this uncanny resemblance is that, since I started grad school, I have become a weirdly obsessive “texture person.”
I have somehow always labored under the impression that most people outgrow their pickiness about … Read more
