the joys of being an adult... and eating what you want

I was reading Suz's blog, in which she was recounting how, when she was not fond of a particular meal (like liver), she would excuse herself to get something from the kitchen; then take a HUGE bite, and then spit it in the garbage disposal when she got to the kitchen. Since she ran the garbage disposal, she never got caught. I wish I was so lucky!!! We never had one, and life in our house on nights liver was for dinner was pure torture. I used to eat it because I didn't want to hurt my mom's feelings, and she still maintains to this day that I "loved" it as a kid. Well, I was a good actress, at any rate. But that obviously didn't help, so I found I had to be vocal and voice, along with my siblings, my great loathing for the stuff. Eventually she got the hint, but there were other culinary disasters, that we had to eat; because it was a rule in our house to eat everything on our plate.

I still vividly remember the time my sister and I thought we would be clever and throw away something we didn't like, while staying at my grandparent's house. What was unfortunate was the fact that we were eating outside, and what was also unfortunate was that my sister was older, and therefore bossier. I thought we should throw the offending sandwhiches in the rain barrel; but she, in her superior way, informed me that mom would see them, so we couldn't throw them there! So, we decided to throw them somewhere else, behind the woodshed, I think. But like most houses, Grandma's and Grandpa's had a nice big picture window, and my mom saw everything. Not good. What was also not good was that she marched out there and went right over to where the sandwhiches were.

"Girls, come here right now, " she called in an I-mean-business sort of voice, the kind of voice that you don't even think of messing with.

My sister was a bit less alarmed, she was trying to look innocent with her "what's going on?" face. Me, I was thinking up my confession already. My face gave me away, even before I said anything.

She pointed to the sandwhiches, which hadn't been hidden very well and demanded to know how they had gotten there. My sister, you've got to give her credit, had a look of total wonderment on her face; like she had no idea how they had gotten there.

I just stood there, with the deer-in-headlights look on my face, a pictue of complete guilt.

"Well," my mom said, in a very no-nonsense manner. "You know the rules!! You are to eat everything on your plate, and you are NOT to waste anything."

It was about this time that I noticed that the ants seemed to like the sandwhiches. "But MOM, there are ants on it," I said, horrified.

"Oh, for pete's sake," she said, briskly, 'I watched you throw them out, just minutes ago. There wouldn't be time for the ants to get to them. Now stop whining and eat the sandwhich. And maybe next time you'll learn not to waste your food!"

And after brushing the ants off, (she told us not to be sooo dramatic, she still thought we were making the ants up) and pulling the sandwhich apart to inspect every millimeter of it for any other ants, bugs or germs that we might find, we had to eat the horrid things. She made SURE we ate them. Yes, Mom, I learned my lesson. Yeah, it was this: We shoulda done the rain barrel. Actually, I learned two things that day. The first being not to waste my food, and the second was not to take my sister's advice. :P Sorry Sis. lol. I still love you, by the way.

lol, I guess I did learn something, after all that. I still rarely throw food away, and I always try to clear my plate, to be polite. lol I don't care what it is -- Just keep the ants away!!!!

And to think, in some countries, chocolate covered ants are a delicacy! They can have 'em! blechhhh.

So, it was with great joy that I came into adulthood, which meant I could eat what I wanted, when I wanted (which means the occasional peice of chocolate cake for breakfast); and I'm happy to say that liver is NOT included in my diet.

Ciao, folks. I'm off to bed, now. I've got to get up at 6 to go hunting with Becky. Like fools, we'll wait for daylight to break so we can get the deer that never shows up; freezing our fingers, toes and butts off, not necessarily in that order. However, I'm sure, I'll have a rich little story to tell when this experience is over. Oh well, if anything, I'm sure it will give me material for my book, in which the people live in a time when meat must sustain them, and they have to hunt to survive. So, toodles. :)