“I do not like broccoli. And I haven’t liked it since I was a little kid and my mother made me eat it. And I’m President of the United States and I’m not going to eat any more broccoli.”

—George H. W. Bush

I was one of the fortunate few children in this country who never had to eat broccoli. Notice I didn’t say “never had to put broccoli in their mouth” or “never was fed broccoli.” There’s a critical difference.

When I was six my allergies really kicked in, meaning I sneezed a lot. I had to take various medicines and get a shot once a week, and I had to stay indoors in the spring and fall. But there was an upside to all this: I invented the “sneeze move” at the dinner table.

When Moop served up something obscenely vile and inedible, such as broccoli, brussels sprouts, cauliflower, lima beans, beets, cabbage, celery, wax beans, corn salad, roasted pumpkin, turnips, yams, radishes, tomatoes, squash, lettuce, onions, cucumbers, lentils, soy beans, asparagus, chives, parsnips, or rutabagas, the sneeze move worked every time.

I just popped the disgusting morsel into my mouth, then quickly grabbed a Kleenex, pretended to sneeze into it, and discharged the mess from my mouth into the Kleenex. Then I’d give it to Sandy or Lady, our dogs.

There was a near-disaster when the Geezers had to give Sandy and Lady away because too many of us were allergic to them. However, by a stroke of luck, that was almost exactly the same time they remodeled the kitchen and installed little drawers right underneath our places at the table. So it was simple to do the sneeze move and discard the Kleenex into the drawer.

Once in a while I’d clear out all the old Kleenexes and dump them into the wastebasket when no one was around.

It’s great being a grown-up. Like George H.W. Bush, I don’t have to eat anything I don’t want to, ever again.