The last thing I remember was that she had a rag to my face. Now I’m confronted with the only smell that I consider worse than the combination of synthetic gardenia and cat urine: cooked green peas. ‘Breakfast time, Junior.’ It was the unmistakable voice of Ethel. What’s she doing here? That’s when my senses had sharpened up enough to realize that I was tied up, seated in some kind of high chair. It was cold, and that’s when I noticed that I was wearing only a diaper. Ethel entered the room carrying an overflowing bowl of steamy green peas. ‘Here you are sweetie.’ She started to spoon feed me a heaping helping of the peas. ‘Damnit Ethel! Let me go. Get that shit away from me before I fucking puke on you.’ I was both scared and pissed. ‘We’ve got to eat our peas before bath time, Junior.’ I was quickly overcome by the smell and projectile vomited all over Ethel. She wiped off her face and leaned in close to me and hissed, ‘Now don’t be difficult. It’s time to eat your peas.’ I started to squirm even harder, doing whatever I could to free myself but was unsuccessful. She continued to spoon more peas into my mouth and no matter how much I spit out she seemed to have another spoonful at the ready. I closed my eyes and tried to go to my happy place. Something told me this was going to be a long night. email: [email protected] web: www.michaeloster.com