I am scared of potatoes.

Once, when I was still living with my parents, I noticed a funny smell in the kitchen. Sort of fishy, and it seemed to come and go. It was very faint – no one else could detect it. (I am not sure how or why that is; I actually have a rather terrible sense of smell, thanks (I suppose) to countless sinus infections). After several days, the smell had become stronger. Other family members started to notice it. My mom, my sister, and I went around the kitchen, sniffing everything but could not identify the culprit. Several more days passed and the smell became quite bad. We went on a purge, taking everything out of cabinets and off shelves. Finally, we found a bag of rotten potatoes, forgotten in the back of a distant corner cabinet. Worst. smell. ever.

And so it is that I neither keep nor use real potatoes in my kitchen. We use the instant kind around here and thus avoid the risk of putrescence.

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