Salad Is Good For Your Braaaaaaaain

(My teenage son is a notoriously fussy eater. He has just got home from school and I have made dinner.)

Me: “Eat the salad.”

Son: “No. it’s gross. I don’t like vegetables.”

Husband: “Your mother made dinner. You should eat it.”

Me: “It has meat in it.”

Son: “But they’re touching the vegetables, gross. Anyway, I’m not feeling too well. I think I’ll just go to bed.”

(He takes an uncharacteristically early night, and I do the dishes, before my husband and I settle down in front of the TV. Every channel is alarmingly indicating that the zombie apocalypse has started. I am about to go warn my son, when I see him shuffling down the stairs, with a dead look in his eyes.)

Me: “[Son]?”

(He merely grunts, wanders over to the salad, sniffs out the meat, and starts eating it. My husband walks slowly backwards and get a kitchen knife.)

Me: “[Husband]! No, don’t!”

Husband: “It’s hard to accept, I know, dear. But our son isn’t our son anymore.”

Me: “Yes, I know, but at least wait a minute!”

Husband: “Why!?”

Me: “He’s finally eating my salad!”