Comments on: The Good Ship Lollypop http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/ CrazyMom.com Thu, 09 Feb 2012 00:07:26 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.2.1 By: gennyfer http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-12 gennyfer Wed, 11 Mar 2009 14:58:05 +0000 http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-12 "The greatest reprieve from the terror of unwanted food was the day I discovered that I could toss my unwanted food under my younger brothers high chair." That is the best ever food torture avoidance trick. Somehow rolled up in cloth napkins was not successful. Go figure. In retrospect I should have removed the food after dinner rather than leaveit for Mom to discover. :P “The greatest reprieve from the terror of unwanted food was the day I discovered that I could toss my unwanted food under my younger brothers high chair.”

That is the best ever food torture avoidance trick. Somehow rolled up in cloth napkins was not successful. Go figure. In retrospect I should have removed the food after dinner rather than leaveit for Mom to discover. :P

]]> By: JoshuaC http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-10 JoshuaC Tue, 10 Mar 2009 20:08:03 +0000 http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-10 To eat or not to eat that is the question. I won't pretend that I can compete with you on the food story front but I'd like to share some of my memories. In my house growing up we were allowed to choose one food not to eat. Liver was my choice. So I feel for you guys. I recall a few humorous dinner episodes at your house. One time I burped very loudly and proudly at the dinner table. At first everyone was taken aback but I guess I appeared so clueless (plus I was a guest) so they had mercy on me. I asked what I should have done and they said that I should have gone to the bathroom to burp but then admitted that I was so loud that they would have heard me anyway. The second event was a dinner where my parents were present. Frank and I were seated at a low table or sitting on cushions with my mom and eating chicken or turkey for dinner. The meat was so dry that neither of us wanted to eat it. But since it eventually became clear that not eating was not an option, both Frank and I stuffed our entire serving in our mouths which made it almost impossible to chew but rather humorous according to our understanding. To my disappointment, my mother made us spit it out and eat it in smaller bites. My worst memory eating was when my dad made pigs feet stew for dinner. The taste reminded me of pig. It tasted like what a pig smells like when it is alive. If it was venison the term we'd use would be gamey. But this was the taste of a domestic pig so it tasted farmy. Animal farmy. Well, you get the idea. So, I know my dad was trying to make good food but. . . The farmy stew was paired with a side of big old string beans that were starchy and unpalatable. I forget what else we had but it was probably brown rice. Finding that there was nothing appetizing on my plate, I decided to mix everything together to see if I could improve upon my dinner. The result was a large pile of starchy farmy glop which was now cold and congealed. Needless to say I was compelled to stay at the table until I was done. The greatest reprieve from the terror of unwanted food was the day I discovered that I could toss my unwanted food under my younger brothers high chair. At my house now, my children are required to at least taste their food and there my be a few cross words thrown around but I don't think that I am a food maniac or a pushover. Of course, I must defer to my children for their perspective. To eat or not to eat that is the question. I won’t pretend that I can compete with you on the food story front but I’d like to share some of my memories.

In my house growing up we were allowed to choose one food not to eat. Liver was my choice. So I feel for you guys.

I recall a few humorous dinner episodes at your house. One time I burped very loudly and proudly at the dinner table. At first everyone was taken aback but I guess I appeared so clueless (plus I was a guest) so they had mercy on me. I asked what I should have done and they said that I should have gone to the bathroom to burp but then admitted that I was so loud that they would have heard me anyway.

The second event was a dinner where my parents were present. Frank and I were seated at a low table or sitting on cushions with my mom and eating chicken or turkey for dinner. The meat was so dry that neither of us wanted to eat it. But since it eventually became clear that not eating was not an option, both Frank and I stuffed our entire serving in our mouths which made it almost impossible to chew but rather humorous according to our understanding. To my disappointment, my mother made us spit it out and eat it in smaller bites.

My worst memory eating was when my dad made pigs feet stew for dinner. The taste reminded me of pig. It tasted like what a pig smells like when it is alive. If it was venison the term we’d use would be gamey. But this was the taste of a domestic pig so it tasted farmy. Animal farmy. Well, you get the idea. So, I know my dad was trying to make good food but. . . The farmy stew was paired with a side of big old string beans that were starchy and unpalatable. I forget what else we had but it was probably brown rice. Finding that there was nothing appetizing on my plate, I decided to mix everything together to see if I could improve upon my dinner. The result was a large pile of starchy farmy glop which was now cold and congealed. Needless to say I was compelled to stay at the table until I was done.

The greatest reprieve from the terror of unwanted food was the day I discovered that I could toss my unwanted food under my younger brothers high chair.

At my house now, my children are required to at least taste their food and there my be a few cross words thrown around but I don’t think that I am a food maniac or a pushover. Of course, I must defer to my children for their perspective.

]]> By: Frank http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-9 Frank Sat, 07 Mar 2009 14:32:58 +0000 http://crazymom.com/2009/03/04/the-good-ship-lollypop/#comment-9 I read this post by my sister Mary, and it reminded me that my mom never really gave up on this type of twisted torture involving food. She revelled in forcing us to eat nasty stuff, and kept it up for as long as she could. The last incident I can remember of my mom forcing one of us to eat something hideous involved Mary. I was in high school at the time, So Mary must have been ten or eleven. She was pissed off at me for one reason or another, and served me a glass of milk at dinner that she had mixed halfway with water. I think she did this out of spite, but it was not such an unusual little sister thing to do. I watched her put the water in, so there was no way I was going to drink it. I must have said something to that effect, just to bust Mary' chops, but my mom jumped in and turned a harmless brother sister prank into another chance to torture one of us at the dinner table. I don't remember all of the details clearly, but I do know that Mary was forced to sit at the table until she drank the entire glass of watery milk. Not as bad as liver or lima beans, but still disgusting. Its the thought that counts, really. I hope she learned her lesson. The only lesson I ever learned from these horror shows was that my mom was one sick bitch. I read this post by my sister Mary, and it reminded me that my mom never really gave up on this type of twisted torture involving food. She revelled in forcing us to eat nasty stuff, and kept it up for as long as she could.
The last incident I can remember of my mom forcing one of us to eat something hideous involved Mary. I was in high school at the time, So Mary must have been ten or eleven. She was pissed off at me for one reason or another, and served me a glass of milk at dinner that she had mixed halfway with water. I think she did this out of spite, but it was not such an unusual little sister thing to do. I watched her put the water in, so there was no way I was going to drink it. I must have said something to that effect, just to bust Mary’ chops, but my mom jumped in and turned a harmless brother sister prank into another chance to torture one of us at the dinner table.
I don’t remember all of the details clearly, but I do know that Mary was forced to sit at the table until she drank the entire glass of watery milk. Not as bad as liver or lima beans, but still disgusting. Its the thought that counts, really. I hope she learned her lesson. The only lesson I ever learned from these horror shows was that my mom was one sick bitch.

]]>