Fruitcake? More like Foot-cake!

by Veronica W.
(Chicago, IL, 60620)

It was Christmas Eve 1997. My great-aunt Marge was waiting for my uncle to get ready. We were going to yet another family gathering. I loved my aunt dearly, despite the fact that she had horrible taste in food. I couldn't blame her, though. She was raised in a family where sugar and sweets were limited to holiday treats. She herself was nice and lean. I was (and still am) terribly fat and happy with real sugar. That is, until I had fruitcake.

My dear sweet aunt was one to celebrate the holidays with all kinds of goods and chocolates. She stored everything of good edible value in the fridge. She called out to my uncle to hurry up. As she did this, she opened the fridge to pull out a large fruitcake. I stared at it in curiosity. I asked her what it was. Instead of telling me, she offers a piece. Since I'd never had any, I assumed it would be just like any other festive Christmas treat. It would either be too sweet, too spicy, or filled with something alcoholic that I--a 12 year old at the time--should not be having. I took a bite. I took a long, chewy bite of the cake. It was horrible! I could hear the spiraling music of disgust in my head as my taste buds processed the common X-Mas treat. This wasn't food! This was absolutely disgusting! I wondered how people ate these things! It tasted like someone literally sprinkled foot sweat into the batter and added some jellybeans and licorice bits. Then, they added fruit to lady-up the taste.
My aunt asked me how it was. I lied and said it was great. As soon as her back was turned, I grabbed a napkin and spit it out. I now knew why my other aunts re-gifted and hissed at fruitcake. It's a centerpiece instead of something to eat!

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