Brussels sprouts for dinner. Just to see.
The smell of childhood indignation, despite the garlic.
The taste of remembered frustration in the face of vegetable injustice.
Not a good way to end any day.
I still say "No!" to Brussels sprouts. And stamp my feet!
And feel very lucky for not being forced to eat as many as my age this time around ;-)
Squirt ate more than his fair share without protest. He even seemed to like it! Funny kid. Taste is not genetic, but food unfairness might be. No Brussels sprouts for my kid. Ever (again).
"Mom, why don't we ever eat Brussels sprouts?"
"Because we DON'T, in this house - go wash your mouth out!"
"But MOM! That's not FAIR!" (stamping feet stomping off)
Mamma's vegetable revenge could just end up being Squirt's injustice in reverse!