Why I hate spaghetti and how I became a nurse

because inquiring minds want to know...

When I was a kid growing up, there were few things my Dad cooked. Pancakes were one of them,and to this day I swear he makes the best pancakes ever.
Sadly, spaghetti was another.
He does not have the same gift with the spaghetti. Not even freaking close.
His idea of spaghetti made me sick. Every time. It was hamburger, fried with onions, topped in a stewed tomato sauce that had no spices or anything else to it. Everyone else liked it fine. But I just COULD NOT stomach it.
I would sit at the dinner table, for hours, while it got cold, trying to find a way not to have to eat it. But we could not leave the table until we ate. And for some reason my parents really dug in on spaghetti night. Usually I would go to bed hungry and in trouble. Or sick, because they forced me to eat a few cold bites of it.
As I grew older, and more capable of making my own dinner, I avoided Dad's spaghetti easier. But just the sight of the stewed tomatoes, or the smell of it could (and still can) make me gag. Many people have tried to feed me good spaghetti since then, including my very very Italian now ex mother in law, who made her famous spaghetti that takes 24 hours to make. I simply can't do it. It makes me gag and retch. So I am pavlov's dog when it comes to spaghetti. Thanks Dad.
As far as nursing. Well.
I originally wanted to be a teacher. But being a newly divorced single woman who needed to be able to support herself on her own wages disabused me of that idea. Both my sisters are nurses, and, I looked at what they did, and with some not so subtle nudges from my mother, I decided to try it. To see if I liked it, and it liked me. To my surprise, it did, and I do. And I do plenty of teaching, as a nurse. I knew I would not stay in the Navy, but it paid for college, and I got to travel extensively, which was something I really wanted to do.
So, there, in a nutshell, are 2 very random facts about me.