Jello: Beauty is in the Eyes of the Beholder

On my very first day of my first 'real' job in a Minnesota nursing home kitchen, I forgot to put 150 bowls of red Jello on the food trays.  When my misdeed was discovered by my betters--three older high school girls training me in--they made me sit down and eat as much of the evidence as I could.  I stopped at about 40...
After six years there, including serving enough Jello to rival Mt. Kilimanjaro, I never wanted to see or taste the vile stuff again.

Fast forward to lunch at a deli when my daughter, Lauren, was about eight.
"Pick out anything you want," I said.
"WHAT is that DELICIOUS looking FOOD?!" she asked, pointing to a Jello salad. ...She loved it. 
Feeling a little guilty that my kids had never experienced the cancerous colored concoction, that week I decided to make some Jello at home.  My twelve year old son, Ryan, opened the refrigerator and spied something green bouncing wildly on the shelf. "MOM! what is this CRAP in the FRIDGE?!"

Growing up Non-Jello:  Were my kids deprived ?...or NOT deprived?
©1/2013  Jana B Patrick,  janasrandomwriting.blogspot.com