A childhood belief about nasty food

I had a friend whose parents worked for the school district. His father was a bus driver and his mother was a cafeteria worker. His dad sat at the entrance to the cafeteria as we walked in almost daily. On the days that we had some sort of gray toned meat, he would tell us that he ran over an armadillo that morning and that it was being served for lunch. For some strange reason, we ate it..