Third place winner of Flash Fiction contest

What Bugs Me!

By Tom Davis

Recently my daughter, Dixie the vegetarian, introduced me to the garbanzo bean. Not impressed.

My wife Molly declares Dixie takes after me. If something’s good for her, it’s gotta be good for everybody. Soon after her vegetarian transformation, she started bugging me. “Dad,” she would say, “I can’t believe you put that stuff in your stomach. Do you know how long it just sits there fermenting?” Or, “Dad I can hear your arteries slamming shut as you shovel that junk in.”

To shut her up, I tried eating better. With the exception of an occasional Mac Attack and a periodic close encounter with The Barbecue Hut, my behavior proved impressive.

At least, I did pretty well until Dixie stumbled upon a recipe for garbanzo bean soup. I’ve got several problems with the garbanzo bean.

No matter how long you boil one, it’s still crunchy. This may not seem like much, but I like crunchy cereal, not crunchy soup!

A Garbanzo bean doesn’t even look like a regular bean. Take your basic lima. Now there’s a bean-looking bean—kinda fat and oval-shaped. It lies there, begging you to eat it with corn bread. The garbanzo is round like a marble. When you drop a spoon full of these babies on your plate, they roll in all directions.

Finally, and most important, there’s the garbanzo’s taste. There isn’t any—at least not to me.

I’ve stated my position and have suffered rebuke and humiliation. Any opinion contrary to Dixie’s invariably draws inquires into the questioner’s mental status. Did I mention Molly says Dixie takes after me?

Oh, well, what the heck? I’m used to getting no respect around here. After all, what should a man expect who stares down into his soup bowl and gets mooned by a bean.