I put mayonnaise on my broccoli.
It doesn’t need a lot, but it just gives the veggie a little somethin’ extra. T Junior likes mayo on his broccoli, too. Mr. T, however, does not. He thinks it’s disgusting. (But then again, he likes Spam, so you can’t really trust his taste buds.)
Last night, we were having broccoli with dinner. Me and T Junior had mayo on ours, of course, and Mr. T did not. T Junior noticed this and asked Mr. T why he didn’t have it.
“Because I don’t like…” Mr. T started, before I interrupted him. I whisper-talked, “Let’s not say we don’t like something.”
I looked at T Junior as I took my place at the table. “Daddy just doesn’t need any.”
Mr. T nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “Daddy’s on a diet.”
T Junior, who sits between us, whipped around to face me. He leaned closer, and with a concerned look on his face, said, “Daddy’s dying.”