Five weeks in and my snack drawer is basically a graveyard of stuff I used to love. Trail mix? Nope. The smell of the raisins alone does me in. But the weird one is chicken. I made a sheet pan for the kids Tuesday night, walked into the kitchen, and had to go stand in the garage. My husband thought the oven was broken.
Meanwhile I'm eating cold apple slices and plain crackers like they're fine dining. Mealtimes here are chaos anyway with a 6 and a 9 year old plus a picky husband, so I usually just grab whatever's fastest. Lately that's toast. Toast is safe. Chicken is a war crime.
It's not that it tastes bad. It's like my brain rewired the smell button without asking me. I still want the idea of it, then one whiff and I'm out.
Anyone else get ambushed by an aversion to something totally random? Tell me I'm not the only one hiding from a casserole dish.