Trending
The kid yelled. "But I don't like beets."
The cold-hearted mom wasn't moved. "Beets boost the immune system, lower blood pressure, fight cancer and increase energy."
The kid sniffed at the foul gunk. "So?"
"They're good for you. Shut up and eat them."
The kid flicked a beet to the brim of his plate. "You always make me eat stupid stuff."
The mom drove her fists into her hips and fixed the kid with a death stare. "Burton William, you are 55 years old. I am your wife, not your mom. Now stop pouting like a little kid and eat your beets. Or you'll get no dessert."
I ate the stupid beets. But I didn't like them.
Flash forward a few days. Terry and I are house-sitting for a relative with a cat. She sent this message as I wrapped up my night at work:
"Please stop at the all-night store and pick up cat food for Molly. She only eats Prissy Cat brand Gourmet Whitefish & Tuna Pate. Get six cans."
So at 2 a.m., bleary-eyed and past ready for bed, I drove out of my way to accommodate the whims of a cat.
"No fair!" I spat. "How come the cat doesn't have to eat beets?"
I found the shelf with the Prissy Cat brand name. Like a cat can read labels!
I traced a finger over cans until I found Gourmet Whitefish & Tuna Pate. C'mon, I've seen this cat eat spiders, moths and chipmunks, all raw. But she gets to pick her own flavor of pate?
"She tells me, 'Eat your beets.' She tells you, 'Whatever you wish, Your Finickiness.' What makes you so special, cat?"
Is it the whiskers? I have whiskers. True, not like the cat's, but I bet I could find gel a few aisles over that would let me shape my beard like cat whiskers.
I've told Terry a hundred times that I'm a grownup now and I shouldn't have to eat what I don't like. I hated beets as a kid and there's no reason to think I'd tolerate them now.
But whenever I tell her this, she smiles and says, "Kids acquire a taste for anything if they eat it three or four times."
"Mom made me eat the yucky stuff, and I still hated it. So there."
"And I think you can train your taste buds. Here, have some cranberries."
"Blech!"
I stomped up to the checkout counter and paid for Prissy Cat Gourmet Whitefish & Tuna Pate with my credit card imprinted with a picture of a dolphin. It was disturbing.
At the house with the cat, I tossed the bag of fancy feline food on the table next to passed-over cans of Ordinary Cat brand Turkey & Giblets and Here Kitty Kitty brand Beef in Gravy.
"How come you don't make her eat those?"
Terry opened a can of Prissy Cat Gourmet Whitefish & Tuna Pate. "She doesn't like them."
"So? Train her taste buds. Let her acquire the taste."
"I tried," she said. "Molly threw up. I'd rather feed her what she wants than clean cat chunks off the carpet."
So now I know.
There will come a day when Terry serves beets again. It will be the last. Sometimes, a grownup has to do what a grownup has to do.
And if Terry gets suspicious and sets Prissy Cat Gourmet Whitefish & Tuna Pate on my plate after cleaning the carpet… well, it still beats beets.
— Purr at Cole at burtseyeview@tribtoday.com or on the Burton W. Cole page on Facebook. Find his latest novel, "Bash and the Chocolate Milk Cows" (B&H Kids) at bookstores.