Getting Primal (With Purell)- A Nonfic Essay
Getting Primal (with Purell) As a child I refused to eat chicken wings and ribs. It wasn’t because they were too spicy or because I didn’t like the flavor. That was actually far from true. I truly loved the flavor of each. Instead it was because I could not stand the feeling of having dirty, sticky, grimy hands. I would only eat these things if someone pulled it off the bone for me and I could eat it with a fork, which evidently made having either of these dishes a whole ordeal for everyone in my family. *** I can remember our family dinners every night at my dad’s house around our small wooden table where we had just enough spaces for the seven of us. My older brother Drew would come running down the stairs so fast he’d nearly fall when he’d hear someone yell “TIME TO EAT!!”. The rest of us would trickle into the kitchen one by one. I’d go to the powder room and wash my hands, snatching my younger brother, Ethan, up from his playroom. My sister would walk in slyly, s...