Believe it or not, the kids used to like asparagus. We lightly grill it with a little oil when we cook out. It’s the easiest veggie I know of to cook on the grill, and comes out tasting great.

But, of course, one day the kids decided they didn’t like it any more. I don’t know why. Maybe because they heard us call it “asparagus”…

On one particular day, the five year old had decided to get dramatic. He recoiled back from the little green stalk like it was some kind of hated poison.

“Oooh!  Yech! Blech! Take it away! Take it away!”

“You have to eat at least one piece of asparagus.” Mom answered cooly.

She’s the vegetable arbiter of the family, determining exactly how much must be consumed prior to the kids being allowed to eat any of the good stuff (like chips).

C crossed his arms defiantly. “No. It’s yucky! I hate asparagus!”

I plucked a piece of asparagus from my plate and held it out to him. “Here, try this one instead! It’s bigger! In fact, it’s the biggest!”

He was in his bigger-is-better phase, wanting everything to be the biggest, strongest, fastest… you know what I mean.

“Ooh! Yeah!” He said, eyes lighting up. He grabbed the asparagus and took a bite. “Hey! Wait a minute!”

Heh, heh, heh.  Score one for the daddy.