If I was kidnapped but could continue posting on social media, I know I could alert my friends and family of my situation by posting of my deep love for Brussels Sprouts! Like all eating dislikes, this one makes no sense at all. I love cabbage! I cannot abide the nasty little mini-cabbages. Thank the heavens above we were only forced to eat the things once a year at Christmas dinner.
As the oldest of two brothers, I got to see first hand what worked and didn’t work as far as getting kids to eat. My younger brother (two and a half years younger) was the pickiest eater I’ve ever seen in all my life. At one point the only meat he would eat, and even then it was grudgingly, was baloney! He wouldn’t touch hamburger, steak, pork, ham, chicken, turkey for the longest time.
And the big rule in my house was that you sat there until you ate it and cleaned your plate. The parents had never realized the depth of my brother’s stubborness. He could outwait them. He would sit there from mealtime (around 4:30) until it was bedtime knowing that either Mom or Dad would cave and offer him some toast or cereal so he wouldn’t go to bed hungry. This battle of the wills went on for years, and my brother never gave in.
They only had to deal with me once a year at Christmas dinner. Brussels Sprouts! Yech! And what the hell do sprouts have to do with Christmas, anyway?
