Playing at being a hamster.
Posted April 28, 2007on:
I was walking round the supermarket just a couple of hours ago, again tutting at all the packaging (seems a new hobby of mine). I would like to point out here I don’t go to the supermarkets to tut, I go with the intention to buy and see what new produce has arrived (and how it is packed)!!!! Anyway, I noticed/realized a few of things whilst I was walking around with basket in hand.
Realization number 1 I never venture down any of the food aisles and I can’t think the last time I did so. I walk round the fruit and veg section and then head to the cash desk. I have no idea what is on the shelves. It’s the same in any supermarket I go into. I have no interest as to what new bread is in stock (Japan lurves messing around with bread adding peculiar bits here and there) or the latest animation that is on the instant miso soup pack. I don’t even check to see what horrendous British import has found it’s way over here (although I admit when I arrived in Japan seven years ago I was happy to find Heinz baked beans at the international store).
Upon realizing this I filled my basket with portobello mushrooms, red onions, another coconut (need to feed the addiction) and basil and went directly to the cash desk. Still don’t want to know what is lurking down those high in additives and preservative food lanes!
Realization number 2. I get excited when I see the vibrant colors and the displays of fruit and veg in front of me. I pick up some fruit and find myself stroking it (even when covered in plastic) as I find it’s beauty amazing.
How many readers did I lose there huh??
Realization number 3. To this day you will never find me stroking or getting over excited about….wait for it…..swede, asparagus and brussel sprouts. Vile, vile, vile…..
I remember Mum boiling swede for dinner and the smell diffusing up to my room and me heaving. Mum soon learned never to feed me swede or put it on my plate. Asparagus, yuk!! Just tastes too woody and as for sprouts, my mum tried for years to feed me the little horrors. The heaving at the dinner table simply didn’t work here, so I developed a devious way of fooling all those around that I was eating the green balls….I would chop them up into small pieces…..then put them in my mouth and here I would store them like a hamster. I would continue to eat whatever else was on my plate. After dinner and sometimes dessert, and after being excused from the table (I always had manners at the dinner table) I would rush to the bathroom and silently spit the sprouts out into the toilet and flush them away.
So I thought till my brother caught me and told my Mum. Anyway, sprouts never appeared on my plate again.
This story still amuses my parents to this day and I question my mother as to why she tried to force feed me sprouts. She can never give me an answer.
Guess my mother’s favorite veg????