Spoiled

Spoiled

(Partially inspired by Steven Curtis Chapman: Declaration Album: “See The Glory”, Rich Mullins, “[…] I’d rather fight you for something I don’t really want than take what you give that I need”, and Alex, my son, not wanting to sleep.  He would fight and fight it.  I knew this wasn’t smart or healthy but he didn’t.)

My undeniable hunger gnaws loudly,

I am seated in the grand Banquet Hall,

I place a napkin on my lap with sophistication,

And prepare my palate for robust pleasures.

 

The 1st course, arrives,

“A salad?” I protest and balk.

I’m not in the mood for Rabbit food, so I request the potage.

It is stewed meat with chunks of cabbage

Alas it arrives under-seasoned, and the table is lacking a shaker of salt.

I push it aside in battered sighs.

The 2nd course is wheat pasta in light oil

Topped with vegetables fresh from yesterday’s toil

…”I am going to starve,” I say in a voice that’s unkind.

Then a mischievous server sneaks up behind,

He drops a raggedy, brown paper bag at my side.

Curiously I open it to find…

It is filled to the brim with assorted candy and candy bars.

Hastily I tear the wrapper off a King Size.

I sink my teeth in to the soft chocolate…Divine

 

The 3rd course is the main one:

Medium cooked Steak, Gourmet Green Beans, and a baked potato, plain

I stick my nose in the air (with disdain)

And my hand deeper into the brown bag

I retrieve an overflowing handful of loose candies and chocolates.

Ravenously I shove them into my mouth.

Sparkles dance in my eyes and I nearly shout,

As giggles cross my sugar-crusted and chocolate-smeared lips

Uncontrollably I push handful after handful with no sign of the quits

My Hunger begins to subside.

 

The 4th course is a lite strawberry sorbet.

It has a little sugar, so I indulge.

Sugar is Sugar, and sugar is good.

 

The 5th course is Coffee and Coffee Cake.

“Finally something worth eating at this table,” I say.

It is so good that I ask for a second and third.

The final bite brings nausea, a terrible headache, and wicked burps.

I rise from the table with hands unsteady and shaking,

I excuse myself to the restroom, I am quite the sight.

It becomes my respite for the rest of the night.

 

Finally, my Dad comes and carries me off to bed.

He tucks me in, kisses my balmy forehead,

And rubs my tummy as he sings soothing songs.

He hopes one day I will mature

And learn to eat what is good for me;

A man in his early 30’s should know better.