Traumatize Them Back thought you all would like my story:
In the late ‘70s I went to girl scout camp. It was great!!! But one night they served boiled spinach, and as fate would have it I’d been playing with pond moss that very afternoon. Add to this I’d tried spinach once at a friend’s house and I threw up. (Mom despised spinach, so it hadn’t crossed my plate any other time).
At dinner that night our vegetable was boiled spinach. I told the counselors “I can’t eat this, I’ll throw up.”
“If you don’t take at least 3 brownie bites you can’t have dessert.”
“What is dessert” I queried?
“Ice cream sandwiches” answered the counselors.
Damn. Game on.
“Okay, I want that. I’m going to take a bite and puke… should I aim for the railing?”. It was semi-outdoors.
The counselors had stopped caring. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”
I took the bite, swallowed it and promptly puked over the railing. Suddenly, they are all action and rushed me to the one stall bathroom… that was occupied.
I puked in the sink until the vile green shit was out of my system.
As I wiped my mouth with the paper towel I said “So, do I need to take my other 2 bites?”
Several counselors asked me shortly thereafter “If you knew you were going to throw up, why did you eat it?”
“I love ice cream sandwiches,” I answered.
My sweet mother raised hell upon my return from camp that summer, and the forced “three bite” rule went away at Camp Winacka for many, many years.