"Hey, Munchkin," Father's lips brushed against my forehead. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"
"Hmmm," I sighed, taking a bite out of my drumsticks. "I was hungry."
These days, there was not a waking moment when I was not. My cravings took my taste buds to places none deserved to. With everything I ate, it had to be in three proportions. Three different flavors or food. Ice cream had to be three flavors mixed in one. Drinks were the same. My desires fluctuated with food. In one meal, I could consume several types of meat.
When one baby wanted legumes, the other desired carbs, and the third vegetables. I would consume all three together and it would taste like heaven. No vomiting. No disgusting smell to have certain flavors or food mixed. It was all normal.
