And... If Elected!
by saradora
~~~~~~~

I have always been a firm believer in first amendment rights. I think that men who get up on soapboxes and preach their beliefs are entitled to do so. I just don't have to listen... I do listen to women - they just make so much more sense...

Here in the United States, we have an election coming up - and I've been reading campaign promises, campaign slogans, and "if elected, I promise to..." speeches.

Now.... I gotta' tell you. Not one incumbent or opposing candidate has mentioned Brussels Sprouts! Not one!

It's not that I have anything against Brussels Sprouts... well, I do but... is there some reason I have to eat them? Can't think of one. Tiny little bitty cabbages - ought to give them a chance to grow up and be real cabbages. I know, I know. The Brussels Sprout farmers need to make a living too. What? They can't grow something edible? Like strawberries? I put some of the vile things out for the crows. The crows avoided them like the plague... doesn't that tell you something? Furthermore, the slugs wouldn't eat them, either! And he thinks I should.

Men! There oughta' be a law!

"You gotta' eat more vegetables, Sar!"

"Why?"

"Vegetables are good for you."

Oh Lord! He's making a speech!

"Uh-huh. Didja' want sourdough biscuits to go with your eggs?"

"That'll be great, sweetheart, and when I go out, I'll pick up some Brussels sprouts to go with dinner."

No homemade biscuits for you, buckaroo!

"Would you rather have collard greens, instead? Gotta' get more veggies in you, baby."

Just shoot me, now!

"I thought you were making biscuits," he says as I throw bagels in the oven to warm.

"Changed my mind."

"You're eating more veggies whether you like it or not, imp. No discussion, no arguments and that's final. Now, make those biscuits!"

He arches a brow.

I cross my eyes.

He swats my rear end.

"Hey! If you ever want another home cooked meal..."

"If you ever want to sit again... in this lifetime..."

"I'm not eating Brussels sprouts!"

"Yes, you are," he laughs.

Okay, so that didn't go well but I haven't succumbed yet. The evil man came home from the store with:

Warning! Green Gag alert!

1/Brussels sprouts
2/Asparagus4/Spinach
5/Turnips
6/An unidentifiable bunch of green thingies with leaves - could be collard greens but I didn't want to get too close - might be a fungus.

Oh Jeez! Thought I'd keel over. As soon as he left the room, I let the pups sniff the stuff. The Rott was too dignified to comment but gave me a look that defied expression. The Bull Mastiff wasn't as tactful. He snorted an indelicate comment and made his escape.

"Whatcha' gonna make tonight, babe?" the big bully wants to know when he saunters back into the kitchen.

Wonder Woman? I need you! Save me!

"Haven't decided," I mumble, trying not to gag.

"How about these?" he asks, handing me the turnips.

What the #$% does one do with turnips? Do I really want to know?

I hold the offensive things away from my body and reach for the reliable cookbook. Nope, no turnip potions... er, recipes.

"You know what you're gonna do with these, Sar?"

"Uh-huh. Sure do."

Right into the garbage disposal as soon as he leaves the room.

"And don't throw them in the garbage disposal!" he yells from the other side of the house.

"Wonder Woman, I need you!" I yell in frustration.

I can hear him laugh.

I order three large pizzas for dinner - one for us, one for each dog.

He was not amused.

~~~~~

"Pick one of those green vegetables to go with dinner tonight, Sar."

"Why?"

"Because I said so," he arches a brow, crosses his arms over his chest and gives me that "look."

"Grnggs!" I mutter, turning my back on the giant squid.

"I mean it!" he says softly, landing a medium swat on my butt. He wraps his arms around me so my back is leaning against his chest and whispers. "I love Brussels sprouts... I love my Sar... I love broccoli... I love my Sar..."

Oh for God's sake! He's lumped me with vegetables! Does it get any worse?

"How about the turnips?" he whispers in the same tone of voice he uses when he's thinking naughty thoughts.

I sigh heavily. Turnips are a complete turn-off.

I desperately need an infusion of chocolate and I stuff my mouth with Hershey kisses as I watch his SUV back out of the garage. I count to one hundred... slowly. I have serious work to tackle.

I get out the long rubber gloves I wear to clean the kennels. I select a sharp knife and lay the turnips out on a long cutting board. Damn! Those suckers are almost impossible to slice. What to do? Hey... I'm a woman. I'm resourceful...

I went out to the garage and selected a large hammer.

Oh wow! Turnip blood everywhere!

Sigh Cleaned the kitchen and took the rest of the evil things to the backyard. Lined them up on the picnic table and beat them to smithereens... looked like fresh road-kill... the crows, totally lacking in taste, ate what was left of the turnip carcasses.

I dust my hands off. My work is done.

Phone rings as I'm coming back into the kitchen.

"Hey babe! Forgot to tell you I've got a late meeting. Hold dinner, okay?"

Light bulb flash!

"Why don't you invite them for dinner? Then, you don't have to rush your meeting."

"Thanks, baby. That's awfully sweet of you," he says so nicely I almost feel bad about what I'm going to do.

"Yessss! I shout after hanging up. Wonder Woman has come through!

Every new cook learns certain rules about how to disguise evil vegetables in a meal. Mushroom soup and/or cheese.

I dice up some chicken in a baking dish, cut up the broccoli and a few onions, add a little cheddar cheese, lots of mushroom soup and spices. Voila! Chicken casserole. When I serve it in individual servings, I'll garnish the plates with those unidentifiable green thingies.

The asparagus will be chilled and cut up into my 3-bean salad. The spinach I'll use to wrap mushrooms and deep fry Japanese tempura style for appetizers. As for the Brussels sprouts... vegetable rumaki! Instead of chestnuts and liver... I wrap bacon around each little bitty baby cabbage, fry them, insert a toothpick in each and lay them out on a pretty tray along with cheeses, crackers, etc. I could have added a little liver but the only kind I have is the dried stuff I use when I'm working the dogs...

I am so pleased with myself I take my babies out for a real meal - burgers, onion rings, and milkshakes. I chase the meal with two Butterfingers and 6oz of espresso. I am flying high! Life is good! I remember to pick up a large chocolate cheesecake for tonight's dessert.

~~~~~

"Smells good, sweetheart," the giant squid murmurs as he kisses me hello.

It does smell good. Those mystery spices really work. Hope I have enough Alka-Seltzer, Pepto-Bismol, and Gas-X on hand....

"Join us, babe," Cowboy gallantly gestures as I put a filled plate in front of him and in front of each of his three subordinates.

"Oh no," I smile, all innocence. "You gentlemen enjoy yourselves and have your discussion. Cheesecake for dessert," I add as I make sure they all have something to drink.

"I want you to eat dinner, Sar," the big lug insists.

"Had such a big lunch... gonna eat something light."

"You promise you'll eat?" he asks in a serious tone 'cause I've dropped a little weight.

"Uh-huh," I cross my heart and when he attends to his guests, the pups and I stay in the kitchen and stuff ourselves on pork fried rice, banana cream pie, a large jar of sunflower seeds and beer - root for me, Budweiser for them.

Sure enough, the squids eat everything in sight. I am so-o-o pleased. Until...

"I saved you a veggie rumaki, baby," he whispers in my ear as we bid everyone goodnight.

"Oh goodie!" I open my mouth so he can slip it in and cough and... tsk, the little bitty cabbage from hell falls on the floor.

"Oh dear!" I exclaim and make a beeline for the backyard, out of harm's way.

"Very clever way to get rid of the veggies, imp!" he yells as he reaches for me but the pups bar his way and I make it to the backyard unscathed.

I make it up a tree - he finds me and climbs up to retrieve his prey... the dogs are whimpering on the ground.

"Want a chocolate?" I ask, digging in my pocket for a Hershey Kiss.

"I want your butt over my lap, little girl," he chuckles as he reaches for me.

Wonder Woman! This is your cue! Save me!

"Spank her hard! I wanna see!" my 94-year old neighbor yells from the ringside seat of his second-story bedroom window. "Make her butt burn!"

Jeez! Always knew he was a lech!

"I'll do that," Cowboy laughs as he hauls me over to him, but I slip out of his arms and shimmy down the tree.

I run for it, the dogs tailing me. He chases and tackles me to the grass. The dogs think we're playing so they jump all over him, licking his face. I make my escape; he grabs my ankle. I am down.

"Gonna warm your butt, Sar," he promises.

"Don't forget I made a very nice dinner for those guys," I remind him.

"You did," he agrees, "but you're not getting out of a spanking."

"You said make vegetables to go with dinner. I did."

"Sar..."

"Cowboy..."

"Not fair!" I kick the grass.

"Okay, here's the deal. You can make the meal again for tomorrow night's dinner, which you will eat or you can be spanked. Which will it be?"

I think about this.

"Sar...?"

"I'm thinking!"

"I'm thinking it will be both!" he laughs and I'm suddenly looking at the grass from the top of his shoulder.

"I made dinner!" I yell, pounding my fists on his back. I get a light swat.

"And it was a good dinner," he says. "Don't hit me."

I punch as hard as I can and yell obscenities. "Lily livered squid! Shark bait! Silly SeAL!" He lands a medium swat on my rear end.

"Sar..." he warns, cupping my bottom so I can feel how large his hand is...

"This is totally unfair," I pout as he sits me on his lap when we get to the bedroom. "If you spank me for this, I'll never let you forget it and I'll get even and I'll... um... wander off to the edge of the world and I'll..." I cross my arms over my chest and stare him in the eye. "I'll make your life a living hell," I threaten in a stern voice.

So there!

Jeez! I hate it when he laughs at a time like this.

"You knew I wanted you to eat vegetables, Sar," he says softly as he rids me of those cumbersome barriers known as clothes.

"I eat plenty of salad," I pout, squirming and wiggling as I try to get off his lap.

"We can always cut the Brussels sprouts in half and put them in salad," he suggests in a tone that implies he's going to do that and pulls me closer so I can't escape.

"No! I hate those things!"

"I could always tie you down and force feed you," he grins. "Got to get green veggies in you one way or another."

"I'll hurl!" I promise. "Projectile hurling..."

"I'll spank you," he promises in return. "After you feel better, I'll warm your butt."

"You don't love me!"

"Of course, I love you," he swears, turning me over his knees and landing enough medium swats to make me gasp. "And you're going to eat more vegetables, aren't you?"

"I'm not!"

Two more swats... "You are!"

"No!

Two more swats... "Yes!"

Jeez! It stings. I finally remember to keep quiet. He rubs my butt - making it all better - turns me over and reminds me how much he loves me... and shows me how much.

.... and the band played on ....

Now.... I gotta' tell you. If I were running for political office... my platform would definitely include honest to goodness promises to fight the insidious inclusion of Brussels sprouts and other green vegetables on unsuspecting palates... Rest assured that if I am elected...

In the meantime... I think another excursion is long overdue. I won't come home again... until the last Brussels sprout has died. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it! Vote for me!

~sar~

~ End ~

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