I stare down at the pile of peas. I hate peas. I always have. But it gets 10 times worse every time I am pregnant. Those little tiny veggies that I simply dislike suddenly become big, terrible things that just won't go down my throat. I like most veggies. I enjoy carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, corn on the cob, squash, green beans, radishes, cucumbers, asparagus, and brussel sprouts. I can even stand a serving of lima beans every now and then, if they're mixed with corn. But those little tiny green peas just get me every time. You can serve them fresh from the garden, out of a can, or covered in cream sauce---it doesn't help. They're nasty every single way!
Needless to say, we hardly ever have peas when I am pregnant! I only fixed them today because tomorrow is grocery day and they were the last veggie I could dig out of the freezer. I had probably bought them to put in a cold salad, or something. I briefly contemplated fixing no veggie at all for lunch, but that would be totally against my meal-making habits.
I shudder as I stare down at them on my plate. My turkey dog is gone. My baked beans are gone. Now, I am only left with this nasty little veggie. They look up at me, seeming almost human, laughing, knowing that it is only a matter of time before I scrape them into the trash can or try to sneak them onto Noah's plate. I feel like a little girl again, wishing that non-existant puppy would come trotting by so I could scrape them under the table to him. No such luck.
I looks over at Cosette, who is already chowing down on her second helping of peas.
"Okay Jaime, it's for the baby! Buckle down, and eat your peas!" I shudder involuntarily as I scoop up a bite, making sure it's one with plenty of feta cheese on it. But even with the cheese, they taste just as I expected---dry and nasty. I made a horrible face without meaning to.
Cosette looks over and giggles. "What's the matter with your peas, Mommy?"
"Oh, um, nothing Cosette. They turned out...um...just like I meant them to!"
She giggles again as I frown at my second bite. "You don't like them, do you Mommy?" *sigh* When did this little girl become so smart?
Joel laughs from the end of the table. No, Mommy doesn't particularly care for peas.
Eli smiles at his Daddy. "I do, Daddy. See, mine are almost all gone!" I look over at Noah, who is happily eating the ones that haven't already fallen into his bib.
I sit at the table longer than usual, willing every dry and taste-less bite to go down. I wonder how anybody can like these detestable little things! I wish unsuccessfully for a pile of applesauce to bury them in and hide the taste, like I used to when I was a little girl. I remember my sister telling the story of how she used to stuff all of her peas in her mouth when she was a little girl, and then go and spit them out her bedroom window. Seriously. Pea-hating must run in my family.
I finally finish my last bite and look up in triumph! I've finished them all! (Except for the small handful that 'accidentally' rolled onto the table, and we all know that you can't eat food that rolls onto the table, unless it happens to be chocolate brownie or cookie crumbs)
I place my plate in the dish-washer. "There! I finished them! For the baby's sake!"
Joel grins and pats me on the back jokingly. "You're such a good role model for the kids, Love", he says with sarcasm in his voice.
I laugh along with him. But inside, I'm thinking "That was my nine months worth of peas right there!!"