PURE SPOILED ROTTEN
At breakfast one morning eight-year-old Cutie-pie pushed her corn flakes away from her, loudly protesting that she would not eat the stuff. More than that, she screamed, “I won’t eat any breakfast unless there’s something gooder!” Her indulgent mother asked, “Well, what would you like for breakfast?” Cutie-pie hollered out, “I want a worm, a big, juicy one.” Again, the progressive mother, who did not believe children should be frustrated, lest they grow up and become left-handed, a musician or a missionary, sent father to the garden. A few minutes later he appeared with a fat worm. Cutie-pie went into a tantrum. “I want it cooked.” So, rolled in butter, it was cooked to a golden brown and brought back to the table. The little lady sobbed and cried, “I want Daddy to eat half of it.” After a half-minute of hesitation, punctuated by Cutie-pie’s whining, the father closed his eyes, shuddered, and gulped. Half the worm was gone. Then came…
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