When
my sister and I were little, we made up this word "Boobyteen." At some
point we decided it was something we would "cook" and made up a recipe
for it. The recipe was (brace yourselves) poop, pee, milk, orange juice
and sugar (I am simultaneously cracking up and throwing up in my mouth
a little right now). One night, when a nearly immobile old lady was
babysitting us, Jo and I decided we would make Boobyteen. There was no
actual cooking involved, but we put it in a stockpot and left it on the
bottom shelf of the refrigerator (a few years later I pierced my own
ears when that same sitter was watching us). We never, ever intended to
consume it, in any way, and obviously our mom was really, really mad. But apparently, it turns out we might have been onto something...
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