I have a confession to make. And hey, why not do it where anyone with a computer can see? It all began in my childhood, at least that's what I tell myself.
My mom forced me to eat vegetables.
Yeah, I know that's pretty typical, or it was back in the--well, a long time ago. But I contend that my mom was extra stringent about the greens. They were put on my plate and expected to be gone by the end of the meal. And they were. I found very creative ways to make green beans disappear. I was known to hide them inside coloring books, inside play-do canisters . . . it was lucky I sat right in front of the hutch which afforded many hiding places. I would do anything to avoid the vegetable du jour.
As I stared at each distasteful pile of green, I was told I would love it when I grew up. And this is where the confession comes in. There is not a single green food I like. Not green beans, not broccoli, not spinach, not asparagus. (And just so you know, I'm discounting mint chocolate chip ice cream)
No, my taste buds never grew up. When everyone else is having grilled chicken salad, there I am with a burger and fries. Holidays offer a chance at a free-for--all of the foods I was denied. Chocolate covered marshmallow santas at Christmas, Peeps at Easter, Boo Berry at Halloween. Yeah, sad I know. And I'm not happy about it either. Maintaining health and weight would be a lot easier if I enjoyed vegetables. As it is, I guess I'll have to keep taking my Flinstones.