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Ford poked at the peas on his plate, apprehensive. They felt weird and squishy under his fork, and some of them looked really wrinkly and gross. The thought... the thought of putting them in his mouth, it just, it didn't seem right. The carrots were a lot less scary - he knew carrots, and he knew he liked them - and everything else didn't seem so bad, but peas?
"Something wrong, sweetie?" Ma asked with a sad look on her face.
"Peas look... they look... bad," he said, not really sure of how to explain himself.
"Oh," she clicked her tongue, shaking her head with a little smile. "You know, sometimes things that look a little weird actually taste great. And they're great for you!"
"...Okay," he answered, still hesitating. He looked to Stan, who looked back at him and scooped up a forkful of the medley on his plate. He didn't scrunch up his face, or spit it out, or anything that would suggest it was super awful - if anything, he smiled, kicking his feet under the table happily. So Ford turned back to his own plate. He had already eaten some of the familiar carrot, but- but a little more wouldn't hurt. Carrots felt safe, like the way Ma hugged him - he could never get enough of them. Peas felt more like when Dad stood there watching, as him or Stan tried to do their chores or clean up their messes. It was hard to know if he was gonna yell, say something nice, or just walk away quietly.
...The number of carrots on his plate was going down, though, and soon he wouldn't have any left. And... what if the peas were really bad? He'd want something nice to make it better, get them out of his mouth. He pushed the last of his carrots to the edge of his plate, swallowing nervously as he looked at the peas again. Really carefully, like he was holding one of Grandma's precious teacups, he scooped a few peas into his mouth. The immediate feeling wasn't the worst, but it did taste kind of weird already, and then-
Then he bit down into them, and they burst into a weird, foul mush. He sputtered, spitting out the peas, whining when he could still taste them. Gross as it was, he tried to scrape everything off his tongue with his fingers, and then he went for his... oh no, oh no no no, he spat all over his carrots, he ruined his carrots! He started to cry, running off to the bathroom, hoping he could wash everything out and forget all about the peas.
He washed out his mouth the best he could, until all he could taste was the water, sighing with relief. Then he pushed up his glasses to wipe at his teary eyes - he hated always being such a crybaby. Sometimes things were too loud, and then he cried, or they were too fast, and then he cried. Sometimes he cried just because someone looked at him a little too long - it was always either his eyes or his hands.
"Stanford?" Ma asked from outside the bathroom, "Knock-knock."
Sniffling, he answered with a quiet mhm, letting her walk in.
She knelt down to him, then, running a hand through his hair. "What happened? Did you choke, and- and I missed it?"
He shook his head.
"Then what?"
"...I dunno," he answered honestly, sniffling again. "They- they felt bad. And tasted bad."
She sighed, "You know- food costs money. And cooking takes a lot of work..."
"I know," he said, shrinking back. "I-I'm sorry-" he choked, another round of tears flowing, "I'm sorry!"
"Oh, honey," she said, pulling him close for a hug and patting his back gently. She didn't say anything more for a little while, like she was thinking hard about something as she held him, comforted him. These tears didn't last as long - Ma always knew how to chase them away - though his breath still shook as he calmed down.
"I just want you to grow up healthy, do you understand? But if- well, if peas are really that bad... There's always something else, hm?"
He nodded, "Mm... I want my carrots..."
With a smile, she answered, "I'll see what I can do for you, okay? And maybe after lunch tomorrow, we can try a few little things... see if they're any better than peas."
"O-okay," he said. "I love you, Ma..."
She hummed with a smile, planting a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too, pumpkin."