{"id":65369,"date":"2020-11-21T12:30:00","date_gmt":"2020-11-21T21:30:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.juneauempire.com\/life\/slack-tide-the-ballad-of-the-never-ending-dinner\/"},"modified":"2020-11-21T12:30:00","modified_gmt":"2020-11-21T21:30:00","slug":"slack-tide-the-ballad-of-the-never-ending-dinner","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.juneauempire.com\/life\/slack-tide-the-ballad-of-the-never-ending-dinner\/","title":{"rendered":"Slack Tide: ‘The Ballad of the Never-Ending Dinner’"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Geoff Kirsch<\/strong><\/ins><\/p>\n

I abhor controversy<\/a>, especially caused by my own unsolicited opinion.<\/p>\n

So whenever I’m tempted to weigh-in publicly — as I am now, three weeks into a dangerous electoral standoff spurred entirely by one man’s deep-seated psychological issues — I take a breath. In that breath, I try to replace that urge with the most ideologically neutral assertion possible, something left-wingers, right-wingers, moderates, extremists and even Rudolph Giuliani would agree with.<\/p>\n

[Slack Tide: Everything you want to know about snow but were too afraid to ask<\/a>]<\/ins><\/p>\n

This week’s super-non-controversial substitute opinion: Kids should eat their dinner. There! Take issue with that!<\/p>\n

And to make sure I don’t slip in any righteous indignation, I’ll address this subject in rhyming heroic couplets. After all, nothing rhymes with “selfish refusal to acknowledge reality.”<\/p>\n

Ahem…<\/p>\n

In a house like your house, on a street like your street<\/p>\n

A little girl’s family sat down to eat.<\/p>\n

Their dinner plates heaped with meat-starch-veg<\/p>\n

And a bowl with tomatoes and a crisp iceberg wedge.<\/p>\n

“Salt,” Daddy said. “Ketchup,” asked brother.<\/p>\n

“Don’t talk with your mouths full,” said the girl’s mother.<\/p>\n

The girl, herself, was less than enthused.<\/p>\n

To dine, yet again, she simply refused.<\/p>\n

You see, every night she pulled the same shtick<\/p>\n

Poking and prodding, not eating a lick (not even licking a lick—that’s a pretty neat trick!)<\/p>\n

Waiting it out was her usual scheme<\/p>\n

And then, maybe later, a little ice cream?<\/p>\n

But tonight her mother put her foot down.<\/p>\n

“I’ve had it, that’s it,” she said with a frown.<\/p>\n

“That’s quite enough of this no-dinner stuff.<\/p>\n

Tonight, you are eating. Don’t like it? Well, tough.”<\/p>\n

“We’ll see,” the girl said, cutting pieces real small<\/p>\n

To wad up in her napkin rolled into a ball.<\/p>\n

But the little girl’s mother was not to be fooled.<\/p>\n

“Better eat up, before it’s all cooled.”<\/p>\n

“I mean it,” she added, dinner congealing<\/p>\n

Foul and disgusting and most unappealing<\/p>\n

As the family finished, the young girl was stricken.<\/p>\n

Sickened by chicken she’d left to let thicken.<\/p>\n

Her salad looked pallid, peas smelled of disease<\/p>\n

Mashed potatoes now play dough, rock-hard broccolis.<\/p>\n

And there sat her brother, to make matters worse<\/p>\n

Happily forking down double dessert.<\/p>\n

“Please,” the girl begged, “can I just have some cake?”<\/p>\n

“No,” said Mom, Dad nodding, “and make no mistake.”<\/p>\n

“On this point, young lady, there’ll be no debate:<\/p>\n

You won’t leave the table ‘til you finish that plate.”<\/p>\n

With brother excused—“that was delicious!”<\/p>\n

Mom and Dad started to tackle the dishes.<\/p>\n

Leaving the girl to sit there and stare<\/p>\n

At her uneaten dinner, alone in her chair.<\/p>\n

But some kids are stubborn, and the girl pushed back.<\/p>\n

Figuring sooner or later her mother would crack. (But mom didn’t crack; she dug in, in fact.)<\/p>\n

The girl ate not a morsel, Mom budged not at all.<\/p>\n

Dad tried to make peace, he was sent down the hall.<\/p>\n

“This is between my daughter and me.”<\/p>\n

“Get out of here, daddy, please let us be.”<\/p>\n

An hour more passed, then two, then three.<\/p>\n

No break from the table, not even to pee.<\/p>\n

(Thinking this standoff might postpone for bed?<\/p>\n

Sadly, it doesn’t. Here’s what happens instead.)<\/p>\n

“Getting late,” mom said. “Will you please eat at last?”<\/p>\n

Arms crossed, head shaking, the girl stood fast.<\/p>\n

“Okay, but you’ll sit here, no matter how late.<\/p>\n

You won’t leave the table ‘til you finish that plate.”<\/p>\n

Then Mom went upstairs, flipping on one small light<\/p>\n

Under which girl and meal spent a very looooonnnnngggggg night.<\/p>\n

Next day when she woke, had it all been a dream?<\/p>\n

Coffee… PJs… plain old weekend morning, it seemed.<\/p>\n

But while the rest all ate waffles, there, sure as heck was<\/p>\n

The little girl’s dinner, now served for breakfast.<\/p>\n

“How ‘bout now,” mom asked. “Ready to eat?”<\/p>\n

The girl’s mouth dropped; she squirmed in her seat.<\/p>\n

Still, she held strong and stuck to her guns<\/p>\n

Despite the temptation of fresh cinnamon buns.<\/p>\n

“Nothing,” said mom, “‘til your dinner’s all ate.<\/p>\n

You won’t leave the table ‘til you finish that plate.”<\/p>\n

And on it went day by day, and the next, and the next and the next and the next<\/p>\n

Lasting much, much, much longer than one would expect.<\/p>\n

And though, for some reason, she never got thinner<\/p>\n

The girl took not one bite of that dinner.<\/p>\n

Weeks became months became years then decades<\/p>\n

Little Blonde stayed and the food still remained.<\/p>\n

Her brother grew up, her parents grew old<\/p>\n

They retired down south, and their house had been sold.<\/p>\n

“Well,” rasped her mother, “how about now?”<\/p>\n

“Nope,” the girl said. “I won’t stomach this chow.”<\/p>\n

“Then have it your way, if that is your fate.<\/p>\n

You won’t leave the table ‘til you finish your plate.”<\/p>\n

So the stalemate went on into posterity<\/p>\n

Just some food, a girl and her childish temerity.<\/p>\n

They became an exhibit in a future museum<\/p>\n

Where parents took fussy non-eaters to see ‘em.<\/p>\n

To warn of what happens and who is the winner<\/p>\n

Of generational conflict re: the eating of dinner.<\/p>\n

Of course this was not what the girl intended.<\/p>\n

Now regretting her position so staunchly defended.<\/p>\n

Why hadn’t she downed just a few measly bites?<\/p>\n

With that the girl found herself back on that very first night.<\/p>\n

“Okay, you win,” she said and mom laughed.<\/p>\n

“Then I’ll make you a deal,” mom said. “Just eat half.”<\/p>\n


\n

\u2022 Geoff Kirsch is an award-winning Juneau-based writer and humorist. \u201cSlack Tide\u201d appears twice monthly in Neighbors.<\/em><\/b><\/p>\n


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