Monday, 10 June 2013
Why do we have to eat my vegetables first?
I stare into my plate as mum dunks a pile of Brussels sprouts onto it. The shiny reflection I once saw of me had disappeared into the slimy juice that came along with it. The steam from the Brussels sprouts rising to my nostrils reminding me of what maybe a field of rotten cabbages.
She does this to everyone else followed by chicken and gravy. Mum slaps some gravy onto my plate but unfortunately she didn't slap far enough from the Brussel sprouts and now the gravy and the Brussel sprout juice has combine and made an even more revoluting taste.
I take a deep breath and ask my mother “do I really have to eat these veges mum"... (Fake coughs) I I think I'm allergic to them...“No Brussel Sprouts than no DESERT!" Mum says. I then have visions of a volcano of vanilla ice cream drizzled with chocolate fudgey sauce nestled on my favorite crispy apple pie sprinkled with cinnamon dust.
Could this be?.....could this influence me to take the first bite of this disgusting mini rotten cabbage right in front of me? I ponder my thoughts, I look deep into my minds eye, the visions of the pending desert...became such a reality you could almost taste the sweetness of the first bite of which would be my reward of prompting in my mouth a Brussel sprout!
I lift my fork I prod the offensive thing, I stick my tongue out to greet it, to introduce it to my taste buds. Brussel sprouts...ice cream...chocolate sauce..Brussel sprouts..Starvation- I think so.
There's no way in this world I will be corrupted by this disgusting little green mass of cabbage!
Fear well sweet apple pie...
Mum...there is no way I'm gonna eat this, there's just no way!
“No Brussel sprouts no desert end of story!" Mum says angrily. Well I'm..happy with that I guess. “Well too bad you still have to eat them! (Sigh) sometimes I just don't know why she even gives me a choice.
Plan B- the threat is from mum that I will not have the pleasures of desert if I do not endure the pain and revolution of a Brussel sprout. Ad it seems to me I have to make a gastromic decision, to have or not to have. I will for go my decision to eat the Brussel sprouts, and there for I will for go the gastromic entry into my being of desert,so desirable.
I quickly soo all four Brussel sprouts in my sleeve waiting for my moment to come, where I can despose of them. My moment had come, my decision was made, I clear the table and slip all my Brussel sprouts to rot!
That way mum would think I was being helpful and I can get rid of the Brussel sprouts, Easy as that! I run up to my bedroom and quickly change my top and dispose of it in the laudry! It reeks of Brussel sprouts! I lay on my bed, I can't get the thought of Brussel sprouts out of my head! It had contaminated my brain as it would have contaminated my mouth!
I hear mum “how we're your Brussel sprouts honey? I bet they weren't that bad after all!” Yah mum they were really good mm yum! (Sigh) huh wait....then it came to me, why do I even have to ate my veges first? And as mum would say “because they're good for you."
Wait I don't even think mum had any Brussel sprouts on her plate in the first place! And all those other times too....it all makes sense...it's finally come to me! Mum serves us first so there will be nothing left for her to eat! Aha now I know why I always get two more extra than the others..because it was mums share!
Although I do have to admit very smart mum..I guess she's learnt from the best. At least next time I know I'm serving dinner!
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