“It’s rhubarb,” Mom said. “Try a bite. It's good for you.” I wasn’t sure about this, but Mom wouldn’t tell me something was good when it wasn’t. I took a bite.
“Arggh.” I spit it out. It was horrible. How could it be good when it tasted so bad? Mom cutting the stalks into small pieces, and putting them into a pie plate with crust on the bottom.
I had enough of this rhubarb and I certainly didn’t think I wanted any of the pie she was making.
“Can I go over to Eddie’s house?” I asked.
“Yes, you can”, she replied, “as long as you come home when your father gets home from work.”
I went out the front door and across the porch to the front steps. Across the street, Eddie was throwing a tennis ball onto the roof of his house, and catching it when it rolled down and off the roof.
“Hey Eddie,” I yelled
He took a time and waved.
I ran across the street and Eddie threw the ball to me, I caught it and threw it back.
“Guess what?” I said. “Mom made me eat some rhubarb. It was awful. Yuck.”
“Rhubarb’s okay.” he said.
“No it’s not.”
“Yes, it is. Come with me and I’ll show you.”
We went over to the rhubarb patch in Eddie’s yard (I guess everyone had one) and pulled up two stalks of rhubarb. We went into Eddie’s house through the back door.
Eddie went over to the sink, picked up a knife and cut the leaves and white ends from the stalks. He poured some sugar in a cup, handed me a stalk and said, “Dip the end in sugar and take a bite.”
Remembering the way that it tasted, I hesitated.
I dipped the end in the sugar and held it up in front of my face. I still wasn’t sure.
Finally, I thought, “Why not?” and took a bite. It was really good and I told Eddie it was.
“See, I told you so,” he said.
I guess Mom forgot to tell me about the sugar.