Onions Find New Ways To Make You Cry

I was a very loud, hyperactive, and rather undersized child of no more than four when this happened. My family had just finished a meal at [Restaurant], and being the walking cartoon character I was, I wandered off, only to spy the remnants of someone else’s meal at an unoccupied table.

There was something that, to my eyes, looked very appetizing, and I didn’t give a rat’s a** that it was half-eaten already, so I reached up and grabbed a fistful of what I innocently presumed was a dessert and crammed it in my mouth. It was not a dessert.

It was an onion blossom slathered in hot sauce.

I eventually made my way back to my family, and refused to eat onions in pretty much any form again until I was well into my teens. My mother could not for the life of her figure out why.