Onion Rings.
Onions.
Something most children have nightmares about.
I was a tantrum thrower (as a child), and anything with even the smallest trace of onion sent me into a hissy fit.
Examples?
McDonald’s PLAIN cheeseburger gone awry = screaming/getting a new one/ starving.
(I deserved to go hungry)
Red sauce with onions? The onions always ended up in a pile on the side of my plate.
Onion rings? I ate the breading and left the onions in a slimy pile once again. (This was later in life when I actually let something so close to an onion cross my lips).
Pizza…wouldn’t touch it if it had onions (let alone anything other than cheese).
You get the picture…
I was that kid.






