[QUOTE=CFrance;1457278]I hated my mother's vegetable soup. Hated it. She wouldn't cut the vegetables up. You needed a knife and fork and spoon to eat it. And you had darn well better eat it. And there was nothing else to go with it. That was it for dinner--a big bowl of vegetables in a bland broth. Now I think it was probably an end-of-the-month-no-money-left dinner. I actually liked her liver. And probably would have preferred her Spam to her vegetable soup.
COMMENT
I am not a fussy eater. Want to know why?
I lived with an Aunt and Uncle in southern Illinois for 9 years. At the first meal, I remember, there was something on the plate I did not want to eat. My precious Aunt Helen said OK. She took my plate from the table and placed it on a shelf and at the next meal, there is was, cold and old and not so good. Found out it is best to eat while it is warm. Cold pot roast, cold oatmeal is no treat. No finicky eaters allowed. End of problem. I can remember the first time she put my plate in the cupboard, I wondered, what is this all about?
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