The World of Andy Griffiths
HomeAbout the BooksSmarty Pants QuizAbout the AuthorPlay the Games
About the Books
Just Disgusting

Just Disgusting

I'm sitting at the kitchen table with Dad and Jen. Mom is serving dinner. She puts a plate down in front of me. I look at it.

Roast chicken.

Good.

Gravy.

Good.

Roast Potatoes.

Good.

Brussels sprouts.

Bad.

FIVE OF THEM!

Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad. Bad.

I hate brussels sprouts.

And when I say I hate brussels sprouts, I don't just mean I hate brussels sprouts, I mean I REALLY hate brussels sprouts.

And when I say I REALLY hate brussels sprouts, I don't just mean I REALLY hate brussels sprouts, I mean I REALLY REALLY hate brussels sprouts.

And when I say I REALLY REALLY hate brussels sprouts, I don't just mean I REALLY REALLY hate brussels sprouts, I mean I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY hate brussels sprouts.

Who wouldn't hate them?

They're green.

They're slimy.

They're moldy.

They're horrible.

They're putrid.

They're foul.

Apart from that, I love them.

No, I don't. That was just a joke. There's absolutely NOTHING to love about brussels sprouts. Nothing at all. They're disgusting.

And when I say brussels sprouts are disgusting, I don't just mean they're disgusting, I mean they're REALLY disgusting.

And when I say they're REALLY disgusting, I don't just mean they're REALLY disgusting, I mean they're REALL REALLY disgusting.

And when I say they're REALLY REALLY disgusting, I don't just mean they're REALLY REALLY disgusting, I mean they're REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY disgusting.

So why did my mom have to go and spoil a perfectly good roast chicken dinner by giving me FIVE ???

Surely she can't possibly expect me to EAT them.

"Come on, Andy," says Mom. "Don't just sit there looking at your dinner. Eat up."

"All of it?" I say.

"All of it!" she says firmly.

"Even the brussels sprouts?" I say.

"Even the brussels sprouts," she says.

I can't believe it. She DOES expect me to eat them.

"But I HATE brussels sprouts," I say.

"Okay," says Mom. "Suit yourself. But if you don't eat all of your brussels sprouts, you won't get any dessert.

Huh?

No dessert?

If there's one thing I love, it's dessert.

And when I say I love dessert, I don't just mean I love dessert, I mean I REALLY love dessert.

Back To All Books