Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Insecure Writer's Support Group...The Sausage Incident.
It is that time again folks where we release our fear and insecurities to the world about writing, publishing and all that other jazz. Of course, I am not a writer-hahaha! but the wonderful Alex J Cavanaugh, who spearheards this IWSG, has graciously said that I can join in on the merriment so I have been doing just that.
I can say that if ever you feel like giving up, let this true story be a lesson in stubbornness. So without further ado, let me start my story of the ...(hear the doom, doom doom music and you must hear that title in a baritone that echoes) THE SAUSAGE INCIDENT!
I was a sweet (HA!) blond, blue-eyed lass of about 7, maybe younger, who knew what she liked and what she didn't. I did not like sausage and, in fact, still hate sausage to this day (get your minds out of the gutter). Even the look of them makes me think of fat slime greasy things...you know, like Donald Trump. We always had family dinners and there was just the 4 of us-we were like the typical family from happyland (again HA!). Our Dining area was right beside the kitchen with a counter separating the two areas. My mom was making the dinner and we all sat down in our usual spots to begin eating. At that moment, my mom placed an ugly sausage on my plate. I looked down at this, this thing from another horror show and looked up at her with disgust. My mom thought it was time again to let me try the greasy, fatty thing called a sausage to see if I would open up my realm of food and give this piece of crap a try. She looked at me and said in a nice calm voice, "Birgit, give it a try, you might find you like it now." I looked at her wondering what drug she was on believing she has been replaced by a pod and my real mom had been snatched away. I replied, "I don't like it, I don't want it!" ( yes I was such a sweetie). My mother calmly tried to talk to me believing her words would entice me to eat that grease slick called meat on my plate. I just replied "I don't like it. I don't want it." She took the plate away and cut up the piece of crap thinking this would entice me even more. I just glared at her thinking she wanted to change me into some strange girl who always agrees with what she says (that'll never happen). She now had developed a certain, shall we say, edge in her voice and said I should give it a try because "one never knows until one tries something." I folded my arms and repeated my saying. She nudged the plate closer to me so I could smell the vial stench and, as any good brat will do, I pushed the plate back and said "I don't like it, I don't want it!" Now my mom, who usually made food that my brother and I would eat and usually would not push the topic, must have had a bad day or maybe I was her bad day, because she suddenly got very angry and in a voice only mothers can do, told me I must take a bite of this sausage. I started to cry and told her I don't like it and will not eat it. She threw up her arms and said loudly that she has no idea what she will do with me walking around the counter to the kitchen area.
My dad finally piped in and with his loud voice said, "Ruth! Don't force her, let her eat what she wants. Birgit, What would you like to eat?" I answered, "Chocolate ice cream!" My dad chimed back, "Ruth, get her some chocolate ice cream!" With that, my mom totally flipped her lid, could not utter a word but just high pitched sounds, came back towards me. I realized that the chocolate ice cream stunt went a bit too far as the devil that was formally my mom, picked up a fork, stabbed the greasy gunk off my plate, pulled my hair back and tried to ram that sausage down my throat. Now you would think, by this point I would give in, but you are wrong, By Grabthar's hammer, I refused to open my mouth as the slimy mass went all over my face. My mother, normally very sweet and truthfully a wonderful mom, went further into cuckoo's nest territory, and plugged my nose thinking I would open my mouth. I was on to her for, you see, I saw an I Love Lucy episode where Ricky tried to force feed Lucy, so I did the exact same thing Lucy did and just opened my lips slightly but had my teeth clamped down tighter than a monkey's butt.
With that, my mom threw the fork down on the plate, my dad told my mom she was a wild woman and to calm down and I was victorious since I did not taste that vile fatty thing called a sausage. Yes, you can say I am stubborn and yes, I did put a few grey hairs on my mom's head, but rest assured, you can also say I never gave up! Never give up-never surrender!
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)
When I was a kid I had to eat all this crap I didn't like because 'didn't I know there are starving kids in China?' How it would help them I will never understand. Good for you! Love the Donald Trump simile.ReplyDelete
I think my mom tried that once but that didn't work. I told her I can't go to Africa to feed them.Delete
Hahaha! LOVE it! What a great story! It just goes to show that sometimes even the sweetest mom's flip the lid. :) And that's right—NEVER GIVE UP! Lol.ReplyDelete
Oh she flipped for sure!Delete
lmao they are nasty as can be, good for you to never give up. I had it easier, the dog always sat by me.ReplyDelete
Yup, good for you...our dogs weren't allowed in the houseDelete
You go girl! I wish I had that determination to avoid the beef liver my mom would sometimes serve :) Did the telling of the story ever get funny or did people avoid telling the story in your family?ReplyDelete
Oh this story is legendary! My mom would tell the story and say I looked like an angel but my halo was held up by devil horns. She didn't know until years later that I had taken my breathing through my teeth from I love Lucy.Delete
Ha! I never ate the fish on my plate either. I sat hours at the table looking down at it. Hated it. Still do! At least you had your dad for back up. Mine went in to watch TV. LOL.ReplyDelete
Oh my dad backed me up but that's what sent her into the stratosphereDelete
Hilarious story, but I'm betting Dad had a really long night...possibly even a few days...after backing you on chocolate ice cream for dinner. Lol.ReplyDelete
I have no idea as I was just a little one but I am certain they discussed this laterDelete
You were a gutsy little thing and dug your heels right in. Your mother had to be near to having a stroke when your dad said "Give her chocolate ice cream" My most hated food was liver. The smell of that alone would turn my stomach inside out. I never battled my gran or my mom over it though as I'd have had no back up on the issue.ReplyDelete
Yes I usually do dig in my heels. I got the stubbornness from both of them. I hate liver alsoDelete
That was going into crazy territory! You fought back and won though.ReplyDelete
Donald Trump and sausage. Perfect analogy.
Yes my mom had her momentsDelete
I can never see the point in forcing kids to eat something they really hate - as long as they're eating a balanced diet in general. But then, I'm not a parent and if I were I would probably flip a lot more often than your Mom!ReplyDelete
Anabel's Travel Blog
That's the strange thing, my mom was not a believer in it either. She just wanted me to try and I was not going to and it became a battle of willsDelete
I never liked cheese when I was little. My parents were vegan, and then went back to being vegetarian, and I did not want to get on the milk and cheese train when I was five. Years later I realized I can get calcium and protein from vegan options now that I have decided to go vegan again on my own, and there are lovely things like almond milk. I am no fan of the vegan cheeses though. I used to like pizza, but I would have the drown the pizza in sauce. I think one of the things that just did not ring my bells is when everyone was gushing over this overly cheesy pizza with no sauce. My mom made better pizza at home, and I did not get the allure of these cheesey take out pizza.ReplyDelete
My mom is not one for cheese. She has never understood the cheese on top of cheese. I do understand where she comes from and youDelete
What I find humorous is parents who take their kids to sit down restaurants, and then try to get them to eat the hated foods they dread at home. Oh your child does not eat broccoli at home, and you think he is going to have some sort of metamorphosis at Applebees, where he sees people eating fries? I am not the type to get upset at cranky kids in restaurants, but it is amusing to see people who get upset with these kids, who are often being plied to eat some food item they will never eat. Pick and choose your battles, parents. Or at least do not go to a restaurant thinking your child will have some transformation and become a jet setting foodie.ReplyDelete
You know, I never thought of that but you are right! It's like they think if it is somewhere different the kids will suddenly like it.Delete
Wow. That was some story.ReplyDelete
My mom occasionally fixed chicken liver. I can't even stand the smell, more less the taste of chicken liver. However, we never had an incident like the one you described above. I just quietly fed it to the dog under the table. End of story.
Our doggie was not allowed inside the house otherwise I would have done that.Delete
Haha! That was a funny story. I'm glad my mom never forced me to eat what I didn't like. When I became a vegetarian at eighteen, she didn't understand it because she loves meat, but she accepted it and cooked me meals like hers but without meat.ReplyDelete
My mom only forced me to eat something twice one this sausage and the other was a small bit left of spaghetti that I just couldn't finish. She really went nuts then tooDelete
I currently have a young child that won't eat anything.ReplyDelete
I find no humour in your story.
IWSG September Post
Oh my-I have a feeling you are going through this right now. I find a little humour in your comment:)Delete
I can relate to this. I used to have this battle over food with my son and there were times I reached my limit. Back before I was calm (mature), I would flip out too. He drove me up the wall with his stubbornness. Now, he eats almost everything :)ReplyDelete
Well my mom was in her 40's but we both got the stubborn spitfire streak and this went into overdriveDelete
Hahaha. I admire you for not giving in. I'm sure I would have chickened out and eaten the damn sausage, even though I hated it as a kid and still hate it now.ReplyDelete
Thanks:) I just could not bring myself to eat this no matter whatDelete
Wow! You were definitely determined. My mom would probably have spanked me at some point and then made me eat it. My mom still scares me to this day:) But you have a great attitude. Never give up indeed. Keep it up;)ReplyDelete
My mom was not adverse to spanking but this was a battle of wills and I won:)Delete
I love sausages and would happily have taken them off your plate.ReplyDelete
Oh-where were you..oh wait, my brother offered and my mom told him no! You can have all the sausages:)Delete
Oh my goodness! You are determined! I am guessing it was a bad day for your mom- and therefor the wrong day for her to try to get you to eat a sausage. ;) Hopefully that was the last time you had to have one on your plate!ReplyDelete
It was! I know I rubbed her the wrong way that day and a few other times:) Oh well what are daughters supposed to do but irritate their moms on occasionDelete
I kind of feel sorry for you mother in this story. I agree, sausage looks gross. But kids can be so picky. (I have some great nephew stories of similar.)ReplyDelete
:D You have me laughing so hard, Birgit. I have no doubt that you are one of the most amazing writers ever! AND a sweet lass. While I empathise with your Mom,visualising this was so hilarious! Hugs! I used to feel that way about eggplants - now I love them. Sigh.ReplyDelete
By the way, I tagged you in my post for the 8 photos of Happiness Challenge. I'd love it, and be honored if you join me. http://vidyasury.com/2015/09/happiness-is-homemade.html
Sausages? eeeeew! Can't stand them either. On the same list are choriço, mortadela and similar eeeeky bits of gut filled with ground up bits of who-knows-what. Well done for sticking to your guns. You've made Lucy proud!ReplyDelete
LOL, for a second I was sure this story down memory lane was going to end up the same as Green Eggs and Ham. But nope, you did not like it and you did not want it. My brothers and I never could've told our mother that. You better eat what she put on the table, or there'll be hell to pay.ReplyDelete
Wonderful story! I don't think my mom ever tried to physically force me to eat anything but I do remember staring at anywhere else but the offending item on my plate from dinner time until my parents went to bed, through the next days breakfast and lunch (the plate with the offending item kept reappearing). It showed up again at dinner when my father yelled at my mother to just make me a Fluffanutter since it was obvious that I would rather starve myself than give in.,ReplyDelete