Not in a Box...Not with a Fox

When I was a little girl, my mother loved to serve peas with our dinner. It seemed like there were peas on my plate  on far too many nights.

I was not a fan of the peas. Not. At. All.

Peas were mushy and slimy. Peas made me gag. Literally.

There were evenings when I would try to strike a bargain with my mom…”If you let me not eat my peas…I’ll…wash all the windows for you.”…never worked.

I got the standard speeches about “starving children in Africa” and the “poor children without mommies and daddies who’d love to have my peas”…I offered to let them have the stupid peas on more than one occasion. That usually earned me a week or so of no TV or even no playing outside (which used to actually be a punishment).

There came a time when my mother was over the whole thing. She sat me down and explained to me that she was The Mom. As such she was allowed to dictate what was on my dinner plate. Because I was The Child I had to eat what was on my plate or go hungry and risk losing privileges. Period.

Then she said the magic words that I have held close to my heart ever since: “When you’re The Mom you don’t ever have to serve peas in your house.”

**Hallelujah Chorus**

Yes!! One day I would be the one controlling what was on my dinner plate! AWESOME! Never mind that that day was eons away – it was a hope I could hold on to.

Additionally, Mom conceded that it would be OK if I held my nose when downing the nefarious peas…at least they were going in my tummy.

Fast forward thirty-something years to this evening. I tried a new recipe in my crock pot and made mashed potatoes to go along with that. What to do for a veggie? I looked in my freezer…there, staring back at me was the large bag of “organic peas” that I bought as part of a Cowboy Pie recipe I make frequently (the peas are part of a mish-mash of ingredients – you can hardly taste them! ).

Hmmmm? Peas? Maybe…NAH!!

But…then again. What harm could it do. I’m The Mom now…right? I do NOT have to eat them if I still *hate* them…right?

Here’s the rub… We might want to send someone to check on hell…see if it’s frozen over.

I sorta liked ‘em.

There! I said it! I like peas!  They were rather yummy with a bit of butter and some sea salt.

Please, don’t tell my mom =)