As 9-year-olds in P.E. class in February, my best friend and I convinced the instructor that our queasy stomachs needed a break from running laps to visit the nurse. In the front office, we convinced the nurse that out churching stomachs needed to go home for the day. And at my best friend’s house, we convinced her mom that Disney movies and soup were the best remedies for our upset stomachs.
Her mom rooted around in the pantry and pulled out two tin cans, one of tomato soup and another of chicken noodle. Since I refused to eat any tomato product other than ketchup, I politely declined in favor of option #2.
And that was my first chicken noodle soup experience. Campbell’s in a can, watching Aladdin and Peter Pan. It took almost a decade before I could associate that soup with anything other than a sick day, but now I crave it on the chilly winter nights where a bowl of warm comfort food sounds good too.