Even though it's World Milk Day, I can't drink the stuff.

Why, you ask? Because I grew up on a dairy farm.

Ask anyone who grew up milking cows and I'll bet they'll say the same thing.

The only time I'll go near the stuff is when I have cereal - a few drops of skim milk, that's it.

I think my dislike for milk stems back to my days on the farm when we used to milk cows.

I grew up drinking pure whole milk, right out of the bulk tank.

We had a stainless steel pail that dad would take to the barn to get milk.

He would then bring it back to the house and place it in some sort of pasteurizer.

What exactly the pasteurizer did, I couldn't tell you. Still to this day I have no clue.

The next morning we would have to stir it because the cream had separated to the top.

I know there are some of you right now going, "Yum. I love whole milk."

Sorry, not me.

Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl. It's like I can almost taste the thickness of it.

I can also remember little pieces of something floating to the top.

When I would ask what it was, dad would just say it was pieces of cream.

Pieces? Since when does cream come in pieces?

Over the years, I've crossed paths with lots of other folks who grew up on a dairy farm and many say the same thing - can't stand the stuff today.

So, on this World Milk Day, I do sincerely want to thank all the dairy farmers out there who supply us with the "creamy goodness."

If you don't mind though, I think I'll toast you with a glass of water instead of milk.

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