"Now then‚ children‚ are you ready for school?"
With our satchels‚ we were waiting ‚ as a rule.
It was father's ritual to put cod liver oil in our mouths.
And did the loathing this routine arouse.
The oil was intended to keep us well.
But‚ oh! How I hated the taste and the smell!
On the path‚ I saw my brother spit it out.
He also disliked the oil‚ no doubt.
"I hate it too‚ but it is for our own good".
"If it makes me feel sick‚ I don't see why we should".
He made it seem so easy and tame.
I decided I would also do the same.
If he can get away with it‚ why can't I?
It's not as if I was telling a lie.
But what the slip between cup and lip?
If I failed‚ I would get a taste of the whipping stick.
So i risked being caught‚ and Father's wrath.
In went the oil: cheeks bulging‚ I spat it on the path.
A voice behind said‚"So you know better than me?
Now come back inside‚ and we are going to see!"
Submitted by: Emily May Horan‚ Copyright 2006.
Story Location: Dulverton‚ Somerset
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