The World’s Youngest (unpaid) Food Critic
When I was growing up, during the summer my brother and I spent our days with a woman named Mrs. Smith.
Mrs. Smith’s daycare was a well oiled machine- in a tiny country house that sat along I-81 right next to Dairy Queen.
She even had her meals down to a science. Everyone received the same meal, and everyone was expected to eat it. Usually it was peanut butter and jelly or a turkey sandwich.