My name is Derek R. Greyson; yep it's pretty obvious who my parents were. I guess growing up with 5 brothers and sisters was pretty interesting. However, it's especially entertaining to watch mother debate on trivial subjects with grandpa, they never agree. If mother said 1+12, grandpa would find reasons why it'd equal 4. And they hated loosing to each other more than anybody on this planet. I never thought it would influence me as much as it did, until the day I turned 7.
May 27th Saturday, mom and grandpa took me out on a shopping spree in celebration for my birthday, I was busy looking at all the marvels of the electronics shop, but I vaguely remember that mom and grandpa were arguing about whether the toilet paper should go over the roll or under the roll (I always found that odd; how I could remember something like that, from so many years ago, yet I can't remember what I had for breakfast… now was it French toast or scrambled eggs).
After a morning of shopping we stopped at white water hotel to have lunch, it's probably the most esteemed establishment in the little town of Berryville. Not to mention one of the only establishments. But considering how much money and connections grandpa had, I was surprised we weren't invited to eat at the English court (the French cook there liked to serve raw meat, which he claims to be medium rare).
After the food have arrived I was disappointed to see there was only steak and peas, I've hated peas for as long as I can remember. There is no way in hell I'd ever swallow one of them horrid little green devils.
"Eat your peas boy," grandpa said from across the table after noticing me pushing my peas around the plate.
"But grandpa, I don't want to eat the peas!" I whined.
"Nonsense! Eat your peas now Derek!" Grandpa bellowed. Causing a few heads to turn in our direction. This obviously ate away at my mother.
"Papa, it's alright Derek doesn't like peas"
However grandpa ignored her, "look kid, if you finish all your peas I'd give you five dollars."
My eyes brightened, you must realize I was only seven at the time and five dollars seem like an impossible sum of money. So I closed my eyes and held my breath, and ate a forkful of the horrid green spheres. In what seemed like forever, I was down to my last fork full. It wasn't till then that I noticed my mom's intense violet eyes burning into my head. Her teeth were bared, and she was hissing like a snake. Her pale hands griped her knife and fork so hard that her hands were shaking. Her gaze of pure rage made me want to throw all of the peas up, but as soon as I remembered the promised wealth I swallowed my last forkful.
In a much exaggerated motion grandpa handed me a brand spanking new five dollar bill with a smile that made me feel very uneasy. However the second I laid my eyes on the money I forgot all about that. The moment I put my hand on the bill I could almost feel the anger from mom radiating off of her.
That evening my mom heaped an unusually large serving of peas onto my plate.
"Mom…" I started to whine, before she cut me off sternly.
"You've eaten it for money, and now you can eat it for love." What could I say at the time, nothing, except to eat my peas like a good little boy.
That night I cried bitterly and wallowed in my self-pity. I guess I hoped that mother would come and apologize to me, and to promise never to make me eat peas again. My heart soared when I saw the doorknob turn, but my hopes were crushed when I saw dad coming in holding his pillow."
"What are you doing here?" I mumbled angrily. Unhappy that mother didn't come to beg for my forgiveness.
"What did you do to make your mother so angry that she kicked me out of my room?" Dad shot back.
So I told him the whole business of the five dollars and the peas. I even threw in the details of grandpa's strange smile, in hopes of him deciphering the mystery expression.
After I finished my story dad simply snorted. "Derek, you must realize your mother is a terribly prideful woman. Now, I don't expect you to understand right now, but you made her real mad you hear me. I'm not sure if she'll ever forgive you."
And how right father was, mother never forgave me for the peas incident. So everyday she punished me with a plate full of peas at dinner. And said the same phrase, 'you've eaten it for money and now you can eat it for love.'
I'm long done my growing up, and am now growing old. Mom died many years ago. But I guess the old hippie crap about people living through memories was in a way correct. Because every time I see peas I'd hear mom's stern voice ringing in my ear, "you've eaten it for money, now you can eat it for love". Oh! I remember now it was sausages with a serving of boiled peas!