We have undertaken the daunting task of cleaning out our attic. In over 26 years in California, we have accumulated a lot of “stuff” that needs to be sorted and much of it discarded. Larry is reticent to part with papers, so you can imagine how much can stack up in that time. Mostly, this is a miserable process, but there have been a few enjoyable moments as we’ve uncovered gems from the past.
I found the following essay in a box of my son’s papers. It was written nearly 20 years ago when he was 12. I remember the incident he describes vividly. I have written previously about the struggles of raising a child to be a healthy eater and apparently my efforts did not go unnoticed. I don’t know if my methods were good or bad, but they made an impression.
I am certain I never saw this essay at the time and I’m happy to report he received an A+ for his paper. Matt has graciously agreed to a guest post and allow me to reprint his essay from his childhood for your enjoyment. And coincidentally, while visiting them this weekend, I enjoyed watching Matt attempt to get his son Isaac, who is now 6 months old, to eat carrots. Check out his reaction below!
By Matt Huff
In this essay, I am going to tell my story of the carrots. It was about five years ago when I was seven. This story is going to tell about my battle at the dinner table and how I learned to like carrots.
It all started about five years ago. One summer evening while I was watching TV, I heard that dreaded phrase, “Matthew, go wash up for dinner please.” This didn’t exactly make my day because I was in the middle of watching a cartoon. I unwillingly got up to wash my hands.
After I had washed up, I went into the dining room. I looked at my plate and almost fainted. On it was chicken, rice, and CARROTS! I sat down in my chair. We proceeded to eat. Of course, since I thought carrots were gross, I skipped them and didn’t eat them. After my parents and I had finished, I nonchalantly got up to throw them away. “Sit back down, Matthew. You didn’t bother to touch your carrots.” Nuts, caught in the act. I sat back down.
I just sat there and looked at my carrots. I was not going to touch them. My mother said that I was not going to leave the table until I had eaten some of them. I just stared at them. I think one of them had eyes and was looking back at me. Half an hour passed. Anther half hour went by. I had been sitting there for an hour and a half. It was 7:45. My absolute favorite TV show was to come on at 8:00. No piece of food was more important than my TV show. I reached out my hand onto my plate. I picked up that wretched piece of carrot and put it into my mouth. Yuck! It tasted as bad as … wait a minute, it tasted good! How in the world could an orange ugly looking vegetable like a carrot taste good? I picked up my carrots and went to watch TV. I munched on them for the rest of the night.
The moral of this story is to try all kinds of different foods. I was stupid to not try the carrots. I wasted an hour and a half of good TV time. After I tried the carrots I loved them. I still do. Now I’ll try almost anything because who, knows, I might like it. I think everyone else should do the same.