Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I found a chicken bone in my chicken salad last night. I took a bite of my sandwich and had started chewing when I felt something hard. I stopped chewing then. No, I did not choke, nor did I break a tooth. And I am not going to sue. I simply fished the bone out of my mouth and took another bite. I wasn't grossed out. I wasn't disgusted. The bone hadn't disturbed me at all. In fact, it was almost comforting knowing that the chicken I was eating was, in all actuality, chicken.