The chow hall was serving pork for dinner. I crushed up two packs of noodles and poured them into my bowl. I realized that I had been eating noodles since I was a small child. With my pops missing in action and my mom at work, I had to learn how to boil water and make noodles. It was the natural order of things, a rite of passage. It dawned on me, Oodles 0′ Noodles were one of my first lessons in independence; a lesson that ultimately prepared me for the cycle of abandonment that I was to experience. Continue reading
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