A Burning Question

So last night I decided to make Salisbury Steak for my hubsband.  (That's not a typo.  I like to call him my hubsband.)  The recipe called for one onion finely chopped.  Bah!  I hate chopping onions.  My eyes are watering right now just thinking about it.  Well maybe they're watering because I just sent my baby to school this morning and he's way too young and I should be pouring him a sippy cup of chocolate juice and kissing his boo boos but instead he yelled "I love you Mommy" and took off like he had better things to do and he could totally take care of himself but I miss him!!!  Phew, anyways, where were we?  Oh yes.  Onions!  So here is my question.....  Who was the first person to cut open an onion and, with tears streaming down their face and vision blurred by the fumes, say, "Oh yeah, we should totally eat this!  Let's just throw it in some butter and cook it for a while.  It'll be great!"?   If I cut something open and it made me cry and unable to see I would go straight to the ER and make sure I wasn't poisoned, not EAT it!  But apparently onions are okay to ingest, so I began to slice and dice and chop.  I chose to do this at arms length on a cutting board on the stove with the vent on high, but the tears still came.  "What's wrong, Mommy?"  "Nothing, Ian"  "Then why are you crying?"  "It's this onion."  "Did the onion make you sad?"  "No, Ian.  My eyes are just burning."  "Did the onion hurt you?"  "No, the fumes just make your eyes water."  "So you're not sad."  "No."  "So you're not hurt."  "No, Ian!"  "Then can I have a cookie?"  "NO!  Get out of the kitchen!!"  Have I mentioned how much I love my children?  Maybe I should make that my next post.
 
Adios,
Rachel