Nuffing on My Plate

Today's blog, I'm going to dedicate to my niece, Katie Craig Wean.  I remember visiting my sister, Claudia, years ago, in Dayton, Ohio, when Katie was about five years old.  Both families, (her six and my five) were all seated around her dining room table filling our plates and talking.

I looked over to my left and there sat little Katie sniffling quietly, with huge tears making their way down her cheeks.  I leaned over and asked, "Katie, what's wrong, honey?"

Katie wiped at her tears and softly said, " I don't like (sniffle) nuffing on my plate (sniffle-sniffle)."

That one precious comment made its way to my heart and I never forgot it.  This poem is lovingly dedicated to you, sweet Katie ...

Nuffing on My Plate
by CJ Heck

I’m sad, I don’t like nuffing
that’s laying on my plate.
Maybe it will go away
if I just sit and wait.

I sure don’t like the liver
and I never, EVER could.
Can I have peanut butter
with grape jelly? That is good!

The smashed potatoes are okay,
yucky gravy it is NOT.
It’s like having icky oatmeal
and I hate that stuff a lot.

I almost like the green beans,
they’re green just like my frog,
but NO ONE likes dumb broccoli,
not even Hank, my dog.

Uh oh, mommy says we’re having
chocolate pudding for a treat.
Maybe if I hold my nose
stuff won’t taste so bad to me.