Eat Everything on Your Plate!

We always had a lot to eat,
Even when we were poor.
Every time our mother went shopping
She seemed to come home
With fully half of the store.
Although it was the half she had coupons for
And the half that was marked down,
There was never a shortage of food on our plates
That we were required to shovel on down.
We had to pretend
(Or did we really believe?)
That everything in our plate
Tasted really great.

The cheapest varieties
Of the largest packages
Were the vittles that filled the pantry,
Until they got tossed in a frying pan
And were served up
Tasting better than something penny-ante.
Feeding us lots
Made her feel good about herself
And the mothering she was offering,
Lacking any awareness that she was creating
Three versions of overstuffed slobbering.

To this day she enjoys
Ice cream by the half-gallon
And no serving is ever too big,
Then she wonders why we don't
All eat like little birds,
But sometimes like housebroken pigs.
History can unravel mystery
Of the person at the dining table
Who continues as they were
Or bounces another way
So long as they have a choice
And remains reasonably stable.

In the home of my youth
It was always eating season.
I grew up wearing
" Huskies "
For very obvious reason.
At dinner time
Were never late
And we always ate
Everything
On our plate.