how to not eat vegetables

Today a friend asked me how I got out of eating vegetables as a kid. I paused, and reflected on my many years spent trying to avoid my greatest enemy. So, in case you don't like vegetables and you need some strategy, or if you're a parent and need some insider information, here you go:

1. Hide them behind the couch. I know, sounds a little out there, but I was four, okay? It seemed to be working fine. I'd tell Dad that if he just closed his eyes I'd eat them, and then I'd go and poke them behind the sofa. This worked great until he opened his eyes while I was in mid-poke. Also, I am a terrible liar, so when he asked me what I was doing, I told him..."umm, I lost something...." Great, Andrea, just great. He was, of course, nice enough to help me look, and pulled the couch away from the wall to reveal a nice little line of peas, carrots and green beans.

2. Toss them underneath your brother's chair. This method requires a little more cunning, stealth and strategy. I think I was in the 8-10 year old range when I employed this technique. You start out eating kind of leisurely, right? Like this is just the greatest dinner, and why rush? And hey, these peas are just so lovely I think I'll save them for last. So, while you share amusing anecdotes from recess and talk about what's happening in Ramona Forever, you casually toss a couple of peas under your brother's chair. Not all of them, just a couple. Stealth, remember? If mom sees a pile of peas under your brother's chair she's totally going to get wise. So, just a couple. Then, start over again, this time tossing them under your other brother's chair. Keep going with as many siblings as you've got, occasionally tossing some really far, like next to the sink. This way, mom thinks, "hmmmm. Some peas must have accidentally fallen on the floor while being served." This worked for a couple of years, until mom's eagle eyes caught me in the middle of a yawn -turned veggie toss.

3. Cut them up really tiny and swallow them with milk. It's time to admit defeat. You've used up all your brilliant ideas, you've tossed and poked and tried hiding them under your mashed potatoes, and now you're caught. You put up a valiant fight, my friend. Even in failure, remember you had a few good years! This was a really decent run, but unfortunately this is the last stop for you. As you sit in front of your plate, all of your yummy food gone, don't lose hope completely. Just cut up those veggies really really teeny and swallow them like pills! You can't even taste them that way, and it's a little rebellious, you know? Kind of revolutionary. Like you're saying "yeah, maybe you can make me eat vegetables, but you'll never make me chew them!!!" (it sounded a lot more inspirational in my head.)

Last, and this has absolutely nothing to do with the above topic, I am an ice cream tunneler. If eating ice cream that has some sort of cookie or swirl or mix-in, I simply must dig it all out before eating the surrounding ice cream. I realized this has perhaps gotten a little out of hand just this evening, when standing with a spoon in front of a half gallon of Turkey Hill Graham Slam. It has this really tasty graham cracker swirl, and when I dug in I totally hit a mother lode of graham-y yumminess. So, I kept digging, and digging, and now there is a perfect hole going all the way down to the bottom of the carton. Now, normally I would just work my way around to even it all out, digging in a couple of other spots so my work would not be so noticeable, but this time to even it out I would have had to eat just about the whole carton, so I opted not to, and while I do feel pleased with my restraint, I'm faced with the knowledge that I am a chronic ice cream tunneler.