Friday, June 11, 2021 Freddy Versus the Asparagus

“Mom, what’s for supper?” Freddy called out while running upstairs with his latest takings while out on Finder Patrol.

“Chicken and wild rice casserole,” she answered from the kitchen. Freddy approved of this and felt his appetite rising. “And asparagus,” she added.

Disaster! Freddy didn’t just dislike asparagus, he loathed it. “I LOATHE asparagus!” he murmured to himself because he liked the sound of it. He dropped off the booty in his room and ran to find his brother, Matthew who was playing with Legos in the living room.

“Matty,” he whispered, “We need to have a secret meeting. Right now! It’s URGENT.”

“Okay,” Matty whispered back. He was a year younger than Freddy and shared Freddy’s room – he got the bottom bunk. Dad always liked to call them “Partners in Crime.” They weren’t quite sure what this meant, but since he said it cheerfully, they assumed it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

Matty followed Freddy back up to their room and when the door was closed, Freddy announced, “Mom’s making asparagus for supper.”

“So what? I like asparagus!” Matty said, disappointed in the topic of this urgent meeting.

“I know, but I LOATHE it and I’m gonna need your help so I don’t have to eat any of it.” Matty looked dubious about this, since the general family rule at the table was to eat what you were given without complaining.

“I don’t see what I can do. Just eat it, you big baby!” Freddy ignored the taunt. He was prepared. He’d given this some thought since the last time asparagus was on the menu, which admittedly didn’t happen often.

“If you help me and if it works, I can help you the next time Mom makes cucumber salad.” This got Matty’s attention. Cucumber salad was an old nemesis.

“Okay. What’s your plan?”

Freddy explained. Matty listened. They practiced and rehearsed the whole thing. Operation “Freddy Versus the Asparagus” was ready for action.

The supper bell rang and they raced to the table, trying not to look suspicious. Their parents often could tell when something mischievous was afoot, which mystified Freddy. How did they know? At any rate, they were determined not to give anything away.

Dad said a prayer, they all said “Amen,” and the food was passed around. Mom occupied herself with getting food on a plate for their two-year-old sister, Philomena, and the boys dutifully took some casserole and asparagus for their own plates. It was time to begin. They had a round table and Freddy and Matty always sat next to each other, an essential part of the plan.

“Hey, Dad,” said Matty, “Tell us the story again about how you and Mom met.” This was an oft-repeated tale, one that everyone enjoyed hearing. Dad told it so often that lately he’d begun telling it with just a few details off and it had become a family contest to catch the errors. Freddy had noticed that when Dad told this story, he and Mom looked at each other a lot, which meant they wouldn’t be looking and him and Matty.

Dad launched in with enthusiasm on the latest version of “How We Met,” and every time Matty ate a piece of asparagus, Freddy surreptitiously replaced it with one from his own plate, making sure that neither of his parents were looking at him when he did it. It was a finely orchestrated thing of beauty. The Asparagus Maneuver (as they called it in rehearsal), didn’t take long to complete. There was one dangerous moment when Philomena saw what they were doing and said, “Funny Feddy, funny Feddy” while pointing at him. Mom turned to look at him, but didn’t catch him in the act.

By the time Dad finished, they were done eating. It had worked! Freddy felt a sense of glee with just a touch of guilt.

“Freddy,” Mom said, “I’m impressed that you ate all your asparagus. I know you don’t like it much and it takes a lot of maturity to eat it and not complain. Don’t you agree, Jim?”

“Absolutely!” Dad answered. “In fact, I think it’s a strong step toward manhood and one that I’d be willing to reward with a double portion of dessert tonight.”

Freddy squirmed uneasily in his chair at this unexpected praise.

Mom went on, “Oh, I don’t even think double dessert would be enough to reward this act of valor. Let’s take him to Disneyland for a whole week!”

Dad added, “And then we can put a water park in our backyard and let him play all day instead of doing schoolwork!”

They knew. Rats. He looked at Matty and Matty looked at him. Partners in crime for real this time.

Freddy confessed, Matty confessed, and on the whole, both of them felt better having gotten it off their chests. More asparagus for Freddy and no dessert for either of them.

And there would be no Cucumber Salad Maneuver.

I’ve been wanting to do another story about Freddy and this one tapped into my own feelings about having to eat food that I didn’t like as a child. And I also LOATHED asparagus. I love it now, though. Funny how that happens. I also wanted to introduce Freddy’s whole family and basically just met them myself as I was writing.

Thank you for joining me for another Fiction Friday.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning during an URGENT meeting to discuss other ways to avoid eating detestable things. Will you be there?