I woke up to the smell of puke. That sour, metallic, drunk puke I smell when Father was having a drunken fit the night before. I thought I was only dreaming but I was wide awake with the smell enveloping me. I gagged.
It was my former housemate who came in last night to use my computer. He was cooking instant noodles.
I told him to open all windows and doors and turn the fans on and stop cooking instant noodles!
I abhor instant noodles. It is not only the smell. They promise you of instant gratification more than the garbage they printed on each of the Nutrition Facts on the packaging. You don’t have to go to the BFAD to know. People in the provinces know. And they are not nutritionists. A snap of kalamunggay, or a string of beans would give more protein and energy more than they promised.
I wonder why the Department of Education opted to feed children with that crap. Even if they scrapped the project after persistent clamor from the public to explain why they will spend millions for trash, still that government entity was guilty of proliferating instant noodles as good nutrition. Tsk tsk tsk. What a pity.
Maybe they should consult Ms Vicki Wallace of the Bohol Bee Farm on the elements of good nutrition. She knows better.