A New Love Story by Pete

 I Only Want Soup: 

A Valentine’s Story

Young Petey was unceremoniously summoned to Mr. E’s office, he the Principal of the school. Petey half expected it as he’d borne the brunt of his teacher’s scorn. But he wasn’t the only one. His classmate Michelle was waiting in the secretary’s office as well. Petey was surprised to see her there. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I have to talk to Mr. E.”

“So do I,” said Petey. “Are you in trouble?”

“I think so,” she replied. “Are you?”

“Seems so.”

Mr. E thundered into the room from his office and gestured for the children to come in. They sat in little chairs in front of his desk. He towered over them from the other side. “You, Petey, said Mr. E, “do you know why you’ve been called into my office?”

“Because I only want soup.”

“And you, Michelle?”

“I only eat salad.”

“So,” said Mr. E, “soup and salad. Is that what we have here? Tell me, Petey, what is it about soup that you like so much?”

“Oh, I like the way it tastes, and the way it fills up my tummy and makes my tummy warm. I like chicken noodle soup best of all. Sometimes I wish I could make myself shrink small, and I would jump into the bowl and swim with all the noodles. Oh, I love soup. I think about it often.”

“So I hear. And you, Michelle, what is it about salad that you hold so dear?”

"I love lettuce even though my daddy says it hardly tastes like anything. And I put radishes on top, and cheese, and bacon bits, and peas, and corn, and sunflower seeds, and raisins, and celery, and eggs, and croutons, and dressing, and…"

“Thank you, Michelle," said Mr. E, cutting her off. “Thank you. Now children, what I want to talk to you today is about balance. And by that I mean I’d like you to mix up your diets a little. Say, instead of soup or salad, have pancakes for breakfast, perhaps a tuna sandwich for lunch, and a pot roast for dinner. You see, you can still eat well  while not eating the same thing for every meal. Besides, what if your mommies forget to pack your lunch, and it turns out that the cafeteria is not offering soup or salad on that day? Why, you’ll go hungry for the day and you won’t grow. We can’t have that. At this school we want to grow our minds and our bodies. Don’t you want to grow bigger?”

Petey and Michelle both nodded their heads enthusiastically. They did want to grow. They wanted to thrive. They wanted all that life had to offer. Except…

“So, Petey,” said Mr. E, “now they I’ve spoken my peace, is there anything you’d care to say for yourself?”

“I only want soup.”

“Naturally. And you, Michelle?”

“I only eat salad.”

“Of course you do,” said Mr. E with a sigh. “Kids, I can tell from your youthful obstinacy that you’re perfectly healthy despite your rather limited diets. You know, soup and salad, I know you’re too young for this now, but somewhere down the line you should meet up again. You’d make a very nice couple.”

They both blushed and shook their heads from side to side.

“You don’t think so?”

“No, no, no,” Michelle moaned. Petey looked at her and smiled.

Mr. E shook his head and dismissed the two from his office. While walking her back to class, Petey said to Michelle, “Do you think we’ll ever meet again? I mean, when we’re grown.”

“Have you already turned seven?” she asked him.

“Yes. I had a birthday party, but no girls were invited.”

“See,” she said, “you’re much too old for me. I’m only just six. It would be impossible. There’s really no future for us.”

 “Well,” said Petey, “at least we can still be friends. Friends?”

“Yeah, shake on it.”

And of course they did meet again when they were grown. And they did go to dinner. And we know just what they ordered.

The end.