Leo sat at the dining table. His plate was already full of yellow cheese pasta and red tomato sauce.
Mom set a steaming dish of green broccoli in the center. 'More veggies!' she said.
Leo's nose wrinkled. He slid the green pieces to the very edge of his plate.
Mom knelt beside his chair. 'Look,' she pointed. 'This floret looks like a tiny tree.'
Leo stared at the broccoli. The kitchen clock ticked. His fingers traced the smooth rim of his plate.
He picked up his fork and poked a piece. It wobbled like jelly.
He lifted it slowly toward his mouth, then pulled back and sniffed. A smell like warm grass filled the air.
Leo took one small bite. Crunch. His eyes went wide. The broccoli tasted salty and sweet. He swallowed and reached for the serving dish.
Leo's empty plate sat next to Mom's broccoli dish. He tapped his fingers on the table twice — once for yes, once for more.
Mom laughed and piled another heap onto his plate. Leo grabbed his fork and dug in.
