Eat Your Damn Peas David!

Sometimes in life we have to learn the hard way. Growing up, I can remember sitting at the dinner table staring at a scoop of peas on my plate for literally an hour! The rule was I had to at least try them, before I decided I hated them. To take at least one single bite. To put one single pea into my mouth. But I refused. I just could not eat them. I couldn’t even stomach the thought of that tiny green ball touching the tip of my tongue, not to mention they smelled like feet. So at the table I sat. And sat. And sat a little longer. They were colder than my glass of milk by the time I dug up enough courage to roll one across my fork. I stabbed it a few times and pushed it around my plate, but it never pushed pass my lips.

I had already made my mind up, without trying them. I hated peas. I hated everything about them. And no matter how long I sat at that table, I wouldn’t change my mind. Peas were the enemy. Public Enemy #1. Somehow my father thought that I would eat a pea if I sat at the table long enough. That I would finally cave into the pressure so I could be excused to go play with my He-Man dolls. After all, He-Man was (and probably still is) “the most powerful man in the universe” and I was certain he NEVER ate peas. So you see, I could grow up to be big and strong despite not eating my veggies. Of course my father didn’t like my “kid logic”. He was the Dad and father knows best. “Just eat the damn peas David!”

Perhaps my taste buds never matured or perhaps I was traumatized because I still hate peas to this day. Little kids are known to be picky eaters and complainers. I was the pickiest eater of all! I wasn’t much of a complainer, but I did try my hand at debating my anti-pea side to my Dad. However, I lost by a landslide. Actually, I don’t even think there was a vote. Democracy didn’t exist at my family’s dinner table. My father ruled the land and that was that. My vote would never count because we were never electing a new leader.

I learned the hard way, not about peas, but rather about keeping my mouth shut because not everyone wants to hear my opinion. My Dad did not care to hear my opinion on peas. He did not care to listen to my reasoning as why I shouldn’t be forced to try them. I watch my 2-year-old niece shovel peas in like they are candy. I wonder what “kid planet” she’s from because it’s certainly not the same one I came from. I wonder if there is any connection as to why I nicknamed her “Peanut”. Because she’s nuts about peas or because only a nut would enjoy peas? I’ve also been known to call her “Sweet Pea”. I have no idea where that came from. I actually hate pet names, but for her, well anything for her.

About 5 years after the “Eat your damn peas David” incident, I tested my father yet again. Let me think how to delicately word this…my father has a way of not always speaking kindly to my mother. It was something that infuriated me as a child and at the same time, I was left powerless to stop. However, one day I was brazen and stepped in. My parents were in the middle of a heated argument and when that happened, I wanted to be as far away from it as possible. I hated the sound of them yelling at each other. I hated the hurtful words that were said and most of all I hated the fear I felt in my chest. The fear that this fight may be the final fight that ends their marriage. Like a panic attack, it struck me hard and constricted my breathing. The thought of being a latchkey kid who had to choose which bitter divorced parent he wanted to live with was paralyzing. Words can’t express how terrified I felt of that scenario coming true. It would be my worst nightmare, far scarier than the Boogie Man that hid in my closet and slept under my bed.

So as their argument carried on, I decided it was time to retreat to my happy safe place – my bedroom. As I began walking up the steps, I paused, turned and said in my bravest "I will defend you Mom" voice…”Hey Dad, you know what?” He stopped shouting immediately and his eyes zeroed in on mine. A lump grew in my throat. A knot tied in my stomach. I should have pretended I had peas on my plate and kept my mouth shut. I had some big balls to talk to my Dad like that, too big for my own good. I can still remember his tone. “What! What is it that you have to say that is sooo important?” My reply…”um, nothing” and I sheepishly scurried off to my room and tightly shut the door as if the big bad wolf himself would huff and puff and blow it in.

In hindsight, I have no idea what I planned on saying to him. And if I did have some tough He-Man response in mind, it was frightened right out of me with his eyes alone. How in the world did I ever think that I could tell my own father off and get away with it? I would be willing to bet my Dad doesn’t even recall any of this, but it left a lasting impression on me. It will forever be remembered as the day I let myself down when I attempted to stand up for my Mom. I could hold my own with a plate full of peas, but I was no match for the Pea Enforcer himself. In my world, he was the He-Man and the most powerful man in the universe. And I was nothing but a small pea on a big plate, squashed down to size and then some.