I’m a picky eater.

There, I’ve said it. It’s out in the open. I don’t have to hide it anymore.

It’s nothing new. I’ve always been a fussy eater. Ever since childhood. Drove my mother crazy. All I would eat as a kid were hamburgers, hot dogs, fried chicken and breakfast.

I have a broader range of tastes now, but not much broader. If I’m at a restaurant with a group of people I’m the first one to decide what to order because I eliminate so many things on the menu.

I used to think it was a bad thing but not anymore. Being a picky eater is part of who I am and there’s nothing wrong with it. In a way it’s a good thing. It means I won’t settle for less than what I really want.

So if you invite me over for dinner and I don’t like what you serve don’t take it personally

I do it to everyone.