Conversion to Vegetarianism

Praise God! I never thought I would hear these words out of my daughter. I mean, she’s a tough cookie, extremely opinionated, and unwavering in her beliefs, to a point that I find her insular at times.

So today is a monumental day. After nearly 17 years of life, she is converting.

As she finished dinner—barbequed chicken, rice, and her favorite veggie, corn—Ivy whispered, almost inaudibly, while covering her lips, “I want you to start cooking…(hushed) lentils. I don’t want to eat meat anymore.” Oh, and I might add to her list of characteristics—comedienne, hilarious, and dramatic wild woman.

My eyes widened. “Really? I mean, you joke around with me all the time. You really want to go vegetarian?”

Her eyes wandered to her left as she contemplated this commitment, then transitioned into discussing the movie her video production teacher has been showing them on the horrific abuse and torture of the still-living animals at slaughterhouses. “Yes,” she replied.

“The reason I went vegetarian at 18 was for the same reason. I saw one of those movies too. Even when we were beef farmers, we never raised the one we were going to eat, because we’d get very attached to each of our cows, calves, and bulls.” Plus I had a friend who didn’t eat meat. “You’ll feel better, look better, and be a better steward of Earth!”

But I backslid 27 years later. In 2005 when “that man” joined our family, he took us down the evil path. He was a wolf, a wolverine, a lion—a carnivore. So being the dutiful little wifelet I wanted to be, I began serving roasts and other dead animals. To my amazement, I uncovered a gift I didn’t know I had for preparing these lifeless creatures. I experimented with herbs, spices (my specialty), and marinades I’d concoct. Ooo-la-la, I felt like hot chilies!

And by the next year when “that man” had moved on (with a boot in his arse), I could have gone back to my meatless ways, but Ivy had an affinity for animal carcasses. Being a dutiful little momlet, I continued to permeate our home with these odors.

Ivy also went on to reeducate me about corn’s omnipresence in our lives and as livestock’s unhealthy filler feed. I added that the reason I’ve rarely consumed corn for three decades is because it’s comprised of starch, sugar, and used as filler. When she agreed, I smiled broadly.

Could life be any better? She’s becoming more like me!

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