I absolutely hate eating cooked peas, always have and probably always will, that mushy texture in my mouth just makes me gag…errrg!
My mother is an amazing cook and her roast chicken has always been one of my favourites. I’m talking about those incredible roasts, with all the trimmings. (you know the one I mean, those dinner’s that only ‘your’ mom can make) After the hours of aroma had been teasing my taste buds, I would sit waiting for my plate with joyful anticipation and there they would be….GLARING at me, like sinister little gremlins!
I was utterly convinced that there was a conspiracy going on and the roast potatoes were in on it…harbouring the ENEMIES! No matter how much my mom said she tried to keep those peas separate, they would Always end up hiding amongst the potatoes, just waiting to strike. A conspiracy I tell you!
What was a kid to do? I couldn’t feed them to the cats under the table because my parents were part of the conspiracy too…we had a GLASS dining room table!! Screwed X1, besides, our cats didn’t eat the horrid little buggers anyway…screwed X2.
MANY Many many many attempts later, the score was Me: 0 Peas: 1 000 000.
One day in the middle of the night I decided to…..F-A-C-E T-H-E N-E-M-E-S-I-S! A light bulb moment or a brain fart, not quite sure which, a solution was supplied as if sent from the heavens above. It was SO simple, so simple in fact I was truly amazed that I had not thought of it sooner….E-A-T T-H-E P-E-A-S F-I-R-S-T….Tah Dah, problem solved!
Feeling utterly renewed by my own genius, I was determined to try out my new theory the next time these creatures were placed on my plate. True enough the next time, I sat in front of that plate of roast chicken, roasted potatoes, stuffing, pumpkin, rice gravy…..Mmmmmm, oops back to the point. I looked at my little Nemeses, took a deep breathe, shoved them in my mouth and came to an inch of throwing up, I stayed strong and scoffed every last one of those vile little monsters…even the ones that the potatoes were ‘protecting’, with all the facial contortions that are customary, just to reinforce your message to your parents how much you hate Peas!!!
*Viola* mission impossible?….not in my vocabulary!
Finally they were out of the way, now all that yummy food you have just eaten would not want to come spewing back up because I’m screwing around at the End of my meal trying to harpoon individual peas with my fork and eating one at a time, prolonging the agony and totally ruining an otherwise magnificent meal.
HA Me: 1 000 000 000 000 Peas: 0.
Turns out I actually owe those peas a debt of gratitude, you see, eating my peas first actually became a great metaphor for my life. There are always horrible parts in every part of life and we spend so much time ‘pretending’ that we have more important things to do, or justifying to ourselves why we will ‘do it tomorrow’. Before you know it, a decade has gone by and that is time you will never get back. Not to mention the stress it creates…my advice (a reminder to myself too :)) get stuck in and always remember.. Eat your Peas First!