What's For Dinner?

I'm sure every kid complains about what they're having for dinner at some point. I think it was mainly Annie who complained about the various meals we had, but we all did so at one time or another. My parents were able to find a cure for the whining, and before dinner one evening, they sat us down and told us what it was.... Sardines.

I don't care who you are, sardines in a can look disgusting... stinky little fish covered in oily goo. The new house rule was that if anybody complained about what we were eating, they had to eat sardines. My dad actually chose to eat sardines on a regular basis, so there was always a can or two waiting for us down in the food storage room. Because we liked to torture each other as often as possible, my sisters and I were constantly on guard, ready to tell on each other should we hear any complaining that hadn't reached our parents' ears.

We all ended up having to eat sardines at least a couple times, but I think that Annie and Corinne hated it more than I did. I've always liked fish and to me sardines tasted a lot like tuna. Annie and Corinne weren't too thrilled with the thought of eating fish under normal circumstances and sardines were 100 times worse as far as they could tell. They'd lay the sardines out onto a piece of bread and eat it as a sandwich, gagging and fighting back tears with each bite.

My dad ended up changing the food that was used as punishment after a little while because he said we liked the sardines too much. Once again the new punishment was revealed as dinner was being prepared one night... pickled pigs feet. My dad brought out a glass jar full of them, and we took turns passing the jar around to inspect the little nasty looking hooves.

From that day on, nobody ever complained again. That jar of pickled pigs feet is still sitting down in the food storage room, covered in dust, just waiting for someone to complain.