It was in the kindergarten. The tables for food and classes, as in all other such establishments, were for four children. At my desk, besides me, there were two boys, one of whom I was in love with (Hello, Bogdan =)), and another girl. So, that morning, the boy Bogdan was unhealthy, he did not want to eat manna flour because he was slightly mute. But the teacher in our group was just Hitler in a shirt. A couple of silly phrases, pronounced by a whispering scream, made Bogdan quietly and quickly work with a spoon, while the teacher stood over him, putting his hands on his sides. And here, the last crumbs of cabbage are eaten, a spoonful screams about an empty plate. The teacher opens her mouth to say something like, "I made more than I ate," turns and begins to leave with a sense of duty. But here we notice that Bogdan's eyes expand, his face becomes a greenish shade, and in the next second all the meat eaten together with the remnants of past undigested food (I think that the guy had an indigestion), the fountain flies back into the empty plate and on the table around it. But, as we remember, the teacher is a beast and Bogdan is wildly afraid of her. And to avoid punishment, he grabs a spoonful and begins to squeeze back into himself what has just drained his stomach. What started here...It was just a chain reaction! First blowed (sorry, but you can't pick up another word here) I and the remaining two children at our table, then the neighboring tables entered the rage and so on the chain until almost all the children dropped breakfast on the tables in front of them, only the most severe stayed... Since then, everyone in our group has refused to eat manna and always given us any other for breakfast. And the mother of Bogdan came and instructed the noble lilies of upbringing. This is a gastronomic memory.