“Blechcck!! What the hell is this?” The boy said as he spit out the pine nut flavored couscous back onto his plate.”I think it’s called couscous” I said in a smart aleck tone. “You mean shit right?” The boy replied, while wiping his tongue with a napkin. The rest of us meanwhile continued to eat our dinner, trying to ignore his poor behavior. “I love couscous mom, ” the doll began, “But this has a funny taste to it”. “See I’m not alone with my assessment.” The boy shouted.
“Nevertheless your sister is continuing to eat her couscous without real complaint or curse words” I replied in an even tone. “Well I put barbecue sauce on mine. Who can resist barbecue sauce?” The doll said with an incredulous tone. Giving the doll a pointed look, the boy eventually went back to eating everything on his plate except the couscous, while his father and I talked about how good it tasted and that neither kid was giving the wheat grain a chance. “Seriously mom, give me any other flavored couscous and I’ll eat it right up, but this shit tastes like shit!” The boy argued.
“From the sounds of things lil man, you WOULD know shit when you tasted it huh?” His father asked? The boy sat there taken aback, not quite understanding where his father was leading. “Considering the potty mouth you’re using to talk to us with implies you truly do know what shit tastes like and most certainly it’s not this food”. Realizing his poor choice of adjectives he apologized to us, but continued to refuse to eat the couscous. Pulling out the age old guilt trip (which coincidentally rarely worked on me when I was a child) I replied, “Well bay, you know there are kids starving in the world that would jump at the chance to eat anything, regardless of taste. Smiling back at me he said “And thankfully I’m not one of them.” Before he cleared his plate into the garbage can and got the hell outta dodge.
*note of clarification: the boy’s voice is naturally amplified so when he argues the ambient sound emoting from him is a shout.