Bread and Toast

There is a food that bothers me in a mild way, since it will be a long time before I will be able to eat any.

It's bread. I love any kind of bread, any flavour. Along with their spaghetti last Saturday Amanda had some French bread, the nice hard crusty kind. It smelled so good. None for me.

Just now the family was eating the end of the stew which didn't bother me. But someone made some toast and all I could smell is the wonderful aroma of toasting bread. Certainly none for me.

Last night I made Gene's sandwiches for today and when I opened the bread bag there was a wonderful yeasty smell just tickling my nose. None for me of course, I made those sandwhiches in a hurry and stuck them in the fridge.

Even when I can introduce bread down the road, it must always be toasted, not soft. It's so strange I thought the sweet things would be the ones to haunt me, but it's that most humble of foods, a slice of bread