Little sprouts

"Brussel sprouts... I can't eat them".

She stared at her plate and refused to eat.

"Stop that nonsense", father growled. He spooned his plate empty without looking at his complaining kid. "Be grateful for the food you have. Once you are grown up and work you can eat whatever you like."

He shove his plate aside and rolled a cigarette while his wife brought him a cup of coffee.

"What do you say wife?"
He inhaled deep and blew the smoke straight into her face.

"You heard what your father said. Finish your meal honey."

"I can't, I am sorry but I can't."
Despaired she looked at her mother.

"You stay here till you are finished!" Father said and he left to the living. Raising stubborn children wasn't part of his job.

"Please, honey finish it, you know your father. He isn't easy to live with."
Mother's voice sounded scared as she begged her child to give in, to have some mercy with her.

"I can't, you know I can't."

"What is wrong with you? You always liked them with the applesauce."
She sat down at the table, waited, prayed for an empty plate.

"Look at them, can't you see? All those dead little faces. You told me yourself babies grow in brussel sprouts. They are dead al dead. How can I eat them!"

As the kid burst out in tears there was nothing left for the mother as removing the plate. How could she forget?

"Hush, don't let your father hear this. I will bury them in the garden. They'll be fine, just don't tell your father."

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