Veggie Children

I've always believed that plants have feelings.  Well, not really, but let's pretend for a moment that they do.  Pretend, and (actually) enjoy the tale!

            “Do I have to remind you what happens if you don’t eat your children?”

            “No, mother,” the kids replied, almost in unison.

            “Good.  Then eat up.”  Mother Radish picked up a steaming plate full of what looked like fingers and passed it to her baby radishes.  “And remember, the ones most full of color have more protein!”

            Let’s pause for a second.  You’re probably getting ready to shut your eyes, take five deep breaths, and then decide that there has to be something better to do than reading this horrific story.  Well I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong.  Not that there probably isn’t something better to do than spending your afternoon indoors reading (you must be desperate), but that this tale isn’t horrific at all.  Let me prove it to you:

            “Do I have to remind you what happens if you don’t eat your veggies?”

            “No, mother,” the kids replied, almost in unison.

            “Good.  Then eat up.”  Mrs. Johnson picked up a steaming plate full of what looked like broccoli and cauliflower and passed it to her young children.  “And remember, the ones most full of color have more vitamins!”

            Pretty gruesome, huh?  So before you judge a book by its eating habits, place yourself in its shoes.  Except in this case.  Because that would be called cannibalism, and I can assure you it’s quite messy (among other things).  So let’s continue:

            “Mother, can I have some figgy pudding?” asked Sal, the eldest radish child.

            “You know my rules.  You can’t have dessert if you don’t finish your human meat.  Have you finished?” inquired Mother Radish, though she of course knew the negative answer forthcoming.

            “No,” said Sal with a sigh.

            “Then eat up!  Those fingernails won’t peel themselves.”

            “Mommy, these thumbs taste funny,” fussed Krissy, the youngest radish baby.

            “That means they’re healthier for you.  Eating good tasting food is asking for a quick and early death, as my grandmother always said,” replied Mother Radish.  Upon hearing this upsetting news, Krissy began crying, not because of its morbid themes, but because she knew this meant she would never be able to eat tasty food.

            “Henry, can you go outside and pick some fresh eyeballs?  They’ll be the perfect garnish for our human stew,” said the matronly radish.

            “Aw, do I have to?  I did it last time, so it should be Sal’s turn,” complained Henry.

            “That’s not true!  I did it yesterday,” retorted Sal.

            “You’re lying!” shouted Henry.

            “Boys, no arguing at the dinner table.  It makes the human harder to digest.  Both of you will go outside and pick some fresh eyes.  Off you go!”  Mother Radish was always the best at solving petty problems.

            With sullen faces, the two radish boys went outside to get the produce.  Having fresh food does not only taste better, but it also is more nutritious for you.  Upon returning, their mother gave them a curt nod of appreciation and proceeded to dress the stew with the eyeballs.

            “Dinner is served.  Eat up!”  And eat those vegetables did.

So when you think about the dreaded task of eating vegetables, feel comfort in knowing that the vegetables have to go through something just as horrid.  Almost.