Meatballs

So I have to tell you a story. When I was little, I was extremely stubborn and really picky (haha go figure). My parents had it made trying to get me to even try a bite of pretty much anything that was new and looked even remotely strange. So you can probably picture the scene the first time my parents introduced me to meatballs and asked me to take one single bite of one. I flat out refused. It looked like dog poop to me and even though I was only 3 or 4 I figured I could out wait them if it came to a stand off. I was wrong. The rest of my family finished their food and my mom and brother went off to do other things. My dad sat at the table staring at me. He would wait all night if he had to, but I was going to try a single bite of that meatball and that was the end of the story. I have no idea how long I tested my dad's patience. To me it definitely felt like I sat there for 2 or 3 hours (considering I was like 3 it was probably more like 10 or 15 minutes). Finally when I felt I'd made my point and I could tell my dad wasn't going to yield and let me leave the table in peace, I took the tiniest bite you can possibly imagine of that disgusting looking brown thing on my plate. Then, before even really allowing myself to taste it, I made the most horrible face I could muster and ran as fast as I possibly could to the garbage can and spit it out. My dad sighed and let me go. It wasn't until about 10 years later that I finally admitted to him that I had actually deeply enjoyed the taste of that first bite of meatball, but that at 3 I had my pride and wasn't going to tell him that. Since then in my family any time that someone is adamantly against something and then completely changes their mind about it, this story is often referenced in jest.