It was a humid Saturday evening. Although the Sun was out, it was drizzling, and there was a cold thunderstorm brewing within the Campbell family residence. The agitated seven year-old Sasha Campbell had a way of having things always go her way, although when it came to eating her vegetables, her mother would not hear her side of the situation.
“But why do I have to eat it?” She whined.
“I do not want to hear it this time.” Her mother responded. “I am sick and tired of your sob stories of why anything green is “the bane of your existence” and how they “unlock the impenetrable doors unleashing the demons in your soul”, whatever that means.”
“But it does!”
“You don’t leave that table until your plate is clear. And don’t think you can simply throw them away or hide them like last time. I’ll be sitting right here, watching.” She then pulled up a chair across from her. Sasha looked down at what looked like a desolate abyss of ill-flavored, misguided green brussels of disgracefulness
“Can I at least put some salt on it? Butter?” She wrinkled her nose at the heinous smell, one she would not be looking forward to later in the form of her defecation.
“It doesn’t need any of that.” Her mother said. “I added enough when I cooked it.”
“As you sure?”
“Yes1 How can you even tell when you haven’t eaten any?”
“I can tell it’ll poison me…” She mumbled.
“Just eat it.”
“Just eat it, eat i-”
“And don’t start singing.”
VEGGIES
Jade Blanchet