Three Fragments Imitation

I’ll never tell you that I’m a picky eater! I already know I’ll never live it down; it’s as if it’s etched into my forehead welcoming all who can read it. Forget family gatherings, be it Christmas, Thanksgiving, or heck even Super Bowl Sunday it never fails to make an appearance. I hate it, it’s almost like I never grew up or something and all they can see still is the 11 year old me. I’ll never quite understand it what makes it so interesting, maybe it would be better if they just talked about how ingenious I was the first time I avoided food I didn’t like.

I remember sitting at our oval dirt brown dinner table. It was quite grand at its base but remained rather simple near the top. I recall the horrifying fact that Brussels sprouts were on the menu that night; something that I’d rather die than eat, what kid wouldn’t? However, after sitting down I noticed that my ingenious parents had left open a rather fatal opportunity in their scheme to get me to eat that poison, a napkin. There was nothing-easier then waiting till they weren’t looking to spit out all the Brussels bombs in it and then stash it someplace safe. Things got even better when I witnessed the clueless expressions on my captor’s faces as I stumbled upon the greatest hiding place ever. Underneath the table my Indiana Jones like hand uncovered the greatest discovery in my world. A small shelf like overhang was hidden near the base of the legs and it was just big enough for me to deposit my wonderful secret.

It’s not like it matters. Regardless of my ingenuity my family still goes on and on about how Thomas was a picky eater in his younger days. I can only hope that someday they all become senile and lose the ability to recall such days.