Friday, October 21, 2011

Peas, Peas, Peas

You may be wondering, Dad, why I chose this picture to share?  Well, as I looked at it, I realized I was probably about 18 months old.  I seem to remember, not because I have any known memory of that time, but because it's been shared with me through the years, that 18 months was about the age I was when I dropped my peas on the floor during dinner.  You remember this story, I know, because it's a favorite of yours to remember.  I dropped my peas on the floor because I did not want to eat them, you told me to stop, and I did it again.  You then smacked my hand as a way to teach me not to drop peas on the floor anymore.  My reaction?  Evidently I did not want to talk to you or look at you the rest of the evening.  This in turn, was devastating to you.  Your little girl didn't want anything to do with you all because of a little hand slap. 

The pea incident was the first time I didn't want anything to do with you.  I remember you saying one time when I was in high-school and you and I went to a movie together, on a Friday night nonetheless, that you were so happy I still wanted to do things with you when I could be out of with my friends.   I think it speaks volumes for the bond we had that the only time I truly wanted nothing to do with my dad was when I was a toddler and refused to eat my peas. 

And by the way, peas still suck. 

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