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"I do not like broccoli. And I haven't liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I'm President of the United States and I'm not going to eat any more broccoli." George H. W. Bush. ***
Brussell Sprouts. You saw the words and either groaned like a whiney child, or salivated like a hungry dog. I did the latter; the minority. We are like fans for the away team at the arena; very quiet.
I grew up eating them exactly twice every year. I queried my mom about that habit.
"I hate them," she replied, "but I ate them at Christmas and Easter growing up. It wouldn't feel like a proper holiday meal without them."
Conclusion - they are an acquired taste.
Today, I came across a paradigm where both sides are happy; this season's delivery truck full of them, had rolled over on the road, creating a five foot pile of these miniature cabbages. The haters won't see them in the store. This was a potential bonanza for my species.
It happened on Main Street, near my office, as I was walking home.
Pedestrians avoided the stray ones as if they were landmines.
I was one of three vultures that circled the vegetable carcasses.
"Go ahead," encouraged the driver with a heavy heart.
I hastily filled my briefcase and pockets, then continued my walk home.
