When my sisters and I were kids, my parents needed to use some creative thinking to make us eat our veggies — especially Brussels sprouts. The rule they introduced was that everybody had to eat the same number of sprouts as their age. So my sister at 11 had to eat 11, and I — being six — only needed to eat six.
My sister was not a happy camper. Pushing her 11 sprouts around her plate, she exclaimed,
“As long as you don’t think that when I am 21 I am going to eat 21 sprouts!”
And all I remember was sorrowfully thinking that I would love some extra sprouts, but had already finished my allowance. Obviously, I was too young to understand that the number set by my parents was to set a minimum intake.
I make up for lost times now, though. Brussels sprouts are still one of my favorite vegetables. Yes, I am often ridiculed for it, and my husband refuses to eat any. But that just means more for me!