Writing Prompt #1: Worst Meal Ever (in second person again!)

It’s Thanksgiving in your thirteenth year and you can’t enjoy your meal. You just got your braces on this Tuesday and your jaw sorely aches with every bite. Your pathetic attempts to chew the meat remind you of when that mountain of a kid Zion gave you a gum eraser in the third grade and told you it was real gum. Even the tiniest nibbles are like gnawing on a Michelin. But to top that off you have a cold. A bad one. The kind where you try to close your mouth so you don’t look like the billy goats Gruff’s troll, but you just end up gasping for breath every time. Your sense of smell left you ages ago and you are left with but five tastes: bland, flavorless, insipid, plain, and ordinary. The squishy cranberries taste like balls of bath oil, the mushy green beans might as well be overcooked slivers of drywall, and the soggy potatoes insist that they are papier-mâché props. You reach for the slimmer-than-usual celeries only to discover with your earnest (and painful) crunch that they are actually green onions and somehow your taste buds have suddenly kicked into action with a burning hatred. This is so far not to mention the fact that your pain medication leaves you desperately thirsty and no amount of refreshing water or sparkling cider is keeping you quenched. Your aunt brings out her homemade apple pie a la mode and you almost cry in anticipation of the dullness in both flavor and aching that awaits you. But you are surprised – sure the pie is apparently made from Saltine crackers and lemon juice, but the vanilla ice cream is perfectly cool as you delight in the sweetness that one kind taste bud has allotted you. With no chewing involved, that ice cream eases your sore mouth, soothes your dry throat, and raises your spirits as though you had been feasting all along. Ahhh…thank God for ice cream.