Lunchtime at Camp

I was in the lunch line at camp. It was sloppy joe day. Yuck! Even the name sounds gross. I told the lunch lady "No thank you", I didn't want it. She told me that I had to take it.  "But, I'm not going to eat it", I said. Smiling, I tought she would be proud of me. So young and refusing to waste food.   How grown up of me, right? Wrong. She made it clear that the line was not moving another inch until I took that thing.  Knowing that I wasn't going to eat that disgusting glob of oozing-ickness-on-a-bun, I looked for something else. Carrots. I love carrots. And, they are good for you. I'm really getting a hang of this making grown up decisions thing, huh?

I loaded my plate with carrots, and went to sit down. All of the other kids at the table were talking about the mountain of carrots on my plate. That was when my Counselor saw them. She marched right over to me, staring at the carrots.  She made me and every other kid at the table sit there until I was done eating EVERYTHING on my plate.  Her reasoning was: Because I TOOK it, I had to EAT it. I tried to explain the whole lunch lady-giant burger thing to her.  But, she didn't believe me.

I looked down at my plate in horror. The sandwhich was as big as my head. How was I supposed to eat all that? AND, a heap of carrots? My counselor glared at me. She wasn't kidding around. What was I supposed to do, hold three cabins of kids hostage? I never thought I would finish it. I almost ralphed as I put my tray in the trash.

That was the moment I realized that sometimes adults are going to be mean to you, just because they can. It doesn't matter what you say. Or, if you are right. They are big, and you are small. And, there is nothing you can do about it.  I have never touched another sloppy joe. Ever.