I feel that green beans deserve a blog post...not because I want to give them any glory, but because
they are the bane of my existence.
I was a picky eater as a small child. No joke, my mother would mix cooked ground beef into cookies for me so that I would get some amount of protein. However, there is one food that I wouldn't eat then, and I won't eat now: GREEN BEANS.
Ugh, just thinking about them, I have to voice an out-loud guttural "yuck", stick out my tongue, and shake my head. If they are sitting in front of me, and I can smell them, or see them, I will actually begin to gag if I don't look away immediately.
I have wanted to like them through the years. I think fresh garden beans actually look quite beautiful, still hanging on the plant, and I love to see my kids devour them while picking them in the garden. However, short of my family members' lives being threatened, there's nothing that will get me to eat them.
One of my earliest memories (not just of green beans, but of anything in my life) involves green beans. I do believe my mother served the kind out of can. They have a waxy feel to them, and they squeak against teeth when eaten. Ugh, again I can hardly write this without looking away from even my computer screen.
I remember that I knew she was going to make me eat them, so I concocted a plan. I excused myself from dinner. It wasn't exactly difficult because we ate in front of the TV, so it's not like I was being watched very well. Somehow I managed to get them all into my hand and I carried them into my bathroom. Because I was an only child, I had my own bathroom.
I also had my own bottle of Bonnie Bell perfume.
And because we were living in West Texas, we also had ants. And I knew that if I threw away those beans, the ants would find them.
So, I oh-so-carefully wrapped those beans in some toilet paper. I then doused the toilet paper with the Bonnie Bell perfume, and placed them carefully underneath some trash that was already in the trash can.
(As a side note, it wasn't until I met John that I was shown the beauty of things (other than poop and pee) that can be flushed down a toilet, and I now understand why there are so many warning signs in public bathrooms to not flush anything down a toilet but toilet paper. I didn't know this back then, or I certainly would have just flushed them.)
I figured the Bonnie Bell perfume would discourage any ant activity in the garbage can, although now that I think about it, I'm not sure ants would actually be interested in green beans. #smartiepants
By the time I was spending summers with my grandparents, I realized that I wouldn't escape being served those nasty green creatures again. After all, no good Southern summer dinner is complete without a side serving of green beans.
Thankfully, I had a grandfather who loved me more than anything, and didn't believe in his "gorgeous ding-a-ling" doing anything that she didn't want to do. I can't tell you the number of dinners that Granddad would motion for me to pass my green beans under the table...which I promptly did. Even when we had people over, and the dinner table was set to the nines, he would remember to work it out for me. I worried at the time that if G-Mother found out, she would be so mad, but looking back on it now, I do believe she knew exactly what we were doing, and she humored my sensitive palette.
I don't believe I have eaten a green bean since then. However, I now eat protein, and fruit, and bread, and all kinds of things that I shouldn't eat, so I obviously outgrew my picky eating habits. However, my one daughter (who is almost a spitting image of her father) occasionally likes to torment me by ordering green beans at Texas Roadhouse. I just about have to leave the table as I see her picking out every last minuscule piece of bean from the bottom of the bowl.
She also insists on making the green bean casserole for Thanksgiving. To each her own, I guess.
I was a picky eater as a small child. No joke, my mother would mix cooked ground beef into cookies for me so that I would get some amount of protein. However, there is one food that I wouldn't eat then, and I won't eat now: GREEN BEANS.
Ugh, just thinking about them, I have to voice an out-loud guttural "yuck", stick out my tongue, and shake my head. If they are sitting in front of me, and I can smell them, or see them, I will actually begin to gag if I don't look away immediately.
I have wanted to like them through the years. I think fresh garden beans actually look quite beautiful, still hanging on the plant, and I love to see my kids devour them while picking them in the garden. However, short of my family members' lives being threatened, there's nothing that will get me to eat them.
One of my earliest memories (not just of green beans, but of anything in my life) involves green beans. I do believe my mother served the kind out of can. They have a waxy feel to them, and they squeak against teeth when eaten. Ugh, again I can hardly write this without looking away from even my computer screen.
I remember that I knew she was going to make me eat them, so I concocted a plan. I excused myself from dinner. It wasn't exactly difficult because we ate in front of the TV, so it's not like I was being watched very well. Somehow I managed to get them all into my hand and I carried them into my bathroom. Because I was an only child, I had my own bathroom.
I also had my own bottle of Bonnie Bell perfume.
And because we were living in West Texas, we also had ants. And I knew that if I threw away those beans, the ants would find them.
So, I oh-so-carefully wrapped those beans in some toilet paper. I then doused the toilet paper with the Bonnie Bell perfume, and placed them carefully underneath some trash that was already in the trash can.
(As a side note, it wasn't until I met John that I was shown the beauty of things (other than poop and pee) that can be flushed down a toilet, and I now understand why there are so many warning signs in public bathrooms to not flush anything down a toilet but toilet paper. I didn't know this back then, or I certainly would have just flushed them.)
I figured the Bonnie Bell perfume would discourage any ant activity in the garbage can, although now that I think about it, I'm not sure ants would actually be interested in green beans. #smartiepants
By the time I was spending summers with my grandparents, I realized that I wouldn't escape being served those nasty green creatures again. After all, no good Southern summer dinner is complete without a side serving of green beans.
Thankfully, I had a grandfather who loved me more than anything, and didn't believe in his "gorgeous ding-a-ling" doing anything that she didn't want to do. I can't tell you the number of dinners that Granddad would motion for me to pass my green beans under the table...which I promptly did. Even when we had people over, and the dinner table was set to the nines, he would remember to work it out for me. I worried at the time that if G-Mother found out, she would be so mad, but looking back on it now, I do believe she knew exactly what we were doing, and she humored my sensitive palette.
I don't believe I have eaten a green bean since then. However, I now eat protein, and fruit, and bread, and all kinds of things that I shouldn't eat, so I obviously outgrew my picky eating habits. However, my one daughter (who is almost a spitting image of her father) occasionally likes to torment me by ordering green beans at Texas Roadhouse. I just about have to leave the table as I see her picking out every last minuscule piece of bean from the bottom of the bowl.
She also insists on making the green bean casserole for Thanksgiving. To each her own, I guess.
Not a big green bean fan either, but I eat them because they are good for me. Or so Ive been told!
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