Lousy vegetables. Why is it that everything that is “good for you” tastes like complete and utter garbage? It’s crazy talk I say! Crazy talk! Next you’ll be telling me that skunk-juice and battery acid are “good for me.” Well they aren’t. Trust me.

I have a theory. I think our bodies are smarter than we give them credit for. I think our bodies know what they want. And if my body wants to forgo stupid disgusting vegetables in favor of Red Vines and chocolate milk, who am I do go against nature??

Ok. Maybe that’s a poor example. But I can’t help it. I’ve always been a picky eater. Growing up I was often tortured at the dinner table with foods that no child should have to endure. I am speaking of course, of the bane of my existence, the tuna casserole.

Oh how I loathed that deplorable mess of “dinner.” It would sit there on the kitchen table steaming in it’s dish…the peas and tuna slosh mocking me and my torment. I did everything I could to avoid eating that dinner. I begged. I screamed. I cried. But no. My parents would not allow be to abstain from the horrors of this nefarious meal. I once sat at the dinner table for hours, long after everyone else had gone, because it was deemed that I would not be excused until I had eaten what was on my plate. But I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. I knew it. The casserole knew it. We were deadlocked in an eternal struggle for my very soul.

But I would not give in. Finally, when it became abundantly clear that I was in no way going to put that filth into my mouth, my dad gave up and very frustratingly sent me to bed. My parents were not happy to say the least. But it didn’t matter. My cause was just. And I had avoided a great and terrible evil.

I was never again served my arch nemesis; tuna casserole. The battle was over. The victory won.