When Chels and I were in fourth and second grade, mum gave us brussels sprouts for dinner. To this day, I don't know of a single person other than my mother who can eat them without thinking it synonomous with cruel and unusual punishment. We couldn't even touch them with our forks, we thought they were so vile. After sitting at the table for a good half hour just staring at the brussles sprouts, we snuck our plates into the living room and let the dog eat them. Mum thought we had finally submitted to her overly maternal nutritional regimen, and she didn't think anything of it. Until the dog threw up. The poor dog was so sick from the brussels sprouts that Chelsea and I firmly belived that they were indeed poisonous. To this day I still can't consider eating them. But mum never did try to make us eat brussels sprouts again.

ash @ 2:38 PM