One time, when I was about 8, I ate a chicken drumstick. There were two cardboard half-gallon milk cartons on the kitchen table. One was full of milk. The other was empty.
The empty one was there to put chicken bones in. I guessed wrong. Kerplop. Suddenly there was a chicken bone floating in what would otherwise have been perfectly good low-fat milk. No one else noticed.
Several minutes later my sister poured herself a glass of milk. Kerplop. Suddenly there was a chicken bone in her glass.
Today I am a nationally certified “Food Safety Manager.” Ha ha. Things sure have changed, eh?
At Hot D***a we promise that we will never serve you a chicken bone with a glass of milk.