Supper Time-The Distressing Ordeal | Teen Ink

Supper Time-The Distressing Ordeal

December 30, 2012
By Katkin PLATINUM, Three Hills, Other
Katkin PLATINUM, Three Hills, Other
34 articles 24 photos 9 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Writing is a socially acceptable form of Schizophrenia."


Sometimes, I think adults forget how truly difficult life is when you're only five years old. Oh, sure, it's all fun and games, that is, until it's supper time...then begins the distressing ordeal.











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I always ran to the table when it was supper time, so that I could eat and go back to my play time. About two minutes in, it already became apparent that while I could eat as quickly as a ravenous wolf, the rest of my family had become a herd of turtles, intent on eating as slowly as possible. After looking up from the remains of my meal, it was painfully obvious that play time would just have to wait.
The adults really enjoyed their talking while they ate, but as a five year old, all I could think about was the toys that were calling out to me. They were begging, pleading that I return to them as quickly as possible. How could they understand that I was chained to my chair by the "we don't get up until everyone is done eating" rule? Would they think that I had abandoned them? The more these dreadful thoughts filled my mind, the more I wriggled in my chair, mentally urging my family to eat faster.
Finally, my family was nearly done and I was ready to bolt from my chair. However, my mother finally looked at my plate and said, "Oh, you haven't touched your bean-spinach puree. You have to finish that before you can get up."
Utter despair filled my heart. Tears began to well up in my eyes. "Mom, I'm too full."
She smiled and I felt hopeful. But then she said, "Well then, you can sit here until you're hungry again."
I started to panic, seeing that everyone was going to get up soon. Glancing at the loathsome green mush, I wished that it would just grow legs and walk back to whatever vile place it had come from. This was just so unfair. I hadn't asked for this puree, so why should it keep me from my valuable play time?
Desperately, I began to come up with ways of getting rid of the dreadful substance. I poked at it with my spoon, spreading it around the plate so that it looked eaten. Then I managed to "accidently" drop some on the floor. I put some in my mouth and then asked to go to the washroom, where I disposed of it in the toilet. Still, when I came back, there was a noticeable amount left on my plate and I had run out of ways to get rid of it.
Everyone else was done and had started to leave the table, off to better things. I watched my older cousins leave to go play, and a longing pulled at my heart. They simply couldn't understand the torment I was going through.
My mother began to clear the table and I started to plead with her. "Mom, I can't eat this. I'm allergic."
She shook her. "You're not."
I tried a different tactic. "Well, it's not cooked enough. So I can't eat it."
Looking at the puree, she sighed and said, "Yes, it is. Now hurry up and eat it so you can go play."
She was about to leave and I knew that I had to take drastic measures. "Mom, if you let me not eat this, then I'll clean my room, I promise."
My last hope left the room, not even dignifying my bribery attempt with an answer. I was lost.
At this point, I wasn't poor five year old girl anymore, no, I was a captive princess who was an orphan and was being tortured in a dark dungeon by evil trolls who liked to make food out of snail vomit. They were forcing me to eat it because they knew it would make me fatally ill and I wouldn't live to see tomorrow.
I had to stay strong! I would never give in! I would sit in that chair till the end of the world, if I had to, but there was no way I was going to eat the puree!













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Two hours later, my resolve finally began to crumble. Not only was I hungry again, but I was also bored out of my mind. My imagination could only last for so long at a time.
Feeling terribly noble, I picked up the spoon. Though in all likelihood this green stuff would kill me, I had to eat it, or die of boredom. Grabbing onto one last scrap of imagination, I became the brave princess who would suffer through this to save her people. Everything depended on me eating the bean-spinach puree and I would willingly suffer for my people.
A few bites and then three cups of water later, I was done. I had come through the valley of darkness. As I got up from the table, legs wobbling a little bit, I thought I could hear a choir of angels singing. I had completed my trial and could now reap my reward of play time.
As I put my plate in the sink, my mother came into the kitchen. "Oh good, you're finally done."
I nodded proudly. She began to wash my plate. "Well, go brush your teeth and put your pajamas on. It's time for bed."
Needless to say, that night, the orphaned princess had escaped from one dungeon, only to find herself in another one, left alone to plot her revenge.


The author's comments:
I wrote this after spending the Christmas holidays with my many little cousins.

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