Lymie Beans!!!!!

Note the picture. You know what that means, yes you do!! So here's the story of why I can't eat beans. It all started with a Lima bean, now prior to the Lima bean incident I call vaguely recall eating burritos from the Taco Bell in Pacifica, Ca (They were listed as the number 8 fast food restaurant in the world on Travel network because of there oceanside walk up window).

Anyhow when I was about six or so my siblings and I were eating with my parents and one of the options on our plate, and now as I write about it I suppose it wasn't an option but a requirement to consume Lima beans. Now for some reason and the reason is being finicky, I decided to take a stand and not consume said legume. Well to my surprise as a post dinner treat we were having Strawberry Shortcake. I did not recall ever having this dessert before and it's presentation was impeccable (my father Nestor Barragan prides himself on great food and greater presentation). Now as I was taking a Caesar Chavez approach (and now contemplating my choice of protesters, what a curious coincidence) my father had decided to make this a learning moment for not only me, the eldest but in breaking his first born he would send a message to the rest of his offspring "don't f with dad". I remember in bits and pieces, as memories often are recalled, I was standing in the kitchen looking at my father. In one hand he held a fork with a single lima bean and in the other the plated Shortcake. The cake with its whipping cream and fresh strawberries hovered over the sink. My father gave me a final choice, eat the bean or your dessert goes down the drain. With all confidence, I knew, I KNEW, he was not going to throw away my dessert. In a final act of defiance I shouted "No!!!" Then in slow motion my father tipped the plate over and the Shortcake dropped into the drain. In a Luke Skywalker plead I screamed "That's not true, that's impossible" or at least wanted to. Rather I just watched on as I got my ass handed to me by my father.

So what came of this lesson in life. I grew to resent all of the legume family, so much so that I began to have psychosomatic reactions to beans. During a two year mission, I was hospitalized after a chili incident. Now I love Mexican, but beans I do not do. No frijoles gracias. I do everything in my power to avoid beans. Every so often I will find the proverbial pea under the mattress (surprisingly I like peas, especially split pea soup). That is my story about the bean.