gojennings

Why I hate beans

Note: I’ve run out of blog ideas, as evidenced by the recent lack of posts.  So, I dug into the archives of my old blog (which was anonymous at the time) and pulled out a few of my favorites.

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Another blogger’s post today has inspired me to share my own nursery school story about the day that beans were gastronomically banished from my life.

Actually, it was kindergarten. Our lunch bitch lady, Big Ethel (yes, we were told to call her that), served pork & beans one day. As she placed plates of the slop in front of each of us at our little wooden tables, I shyly whispered to her, “I don’t like beans.”

Big Ethel leaned her significant bulk down to my level, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Well, if you don’t eat them, then Santa won’t bring you any toys.”

What could I do? I was four years old, and she played the Santa card. I forced the foul mess down.

I had the last laugh, though, as I puked the whole thing up not five minutes after I cleaned my plate. Big Ethel had to clean it up.

Ha! Eat that, Big Ethel.

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And now for some Pork and Beans that I DO like…