The Brussels Sprout Story

The Brussels Sprout

“Good morning class,” said Mr Green,
A tall and spindly runner-bean,
“Today, we’re going to learn about,
Why people love the Brussels sprout.”

The class let out a great big roar,
Then pointed over at the door,
Where sat a boy called Russell Stout,
Who was himself a Brussels sprout.
But unlike carrot; Keith “The Crunch”,
Or all of the Banana Bunch,
Or Billy Spud, or Ricky Beet,
Or even big old Leeky Pete,
Poor Russell was a lonely sprout.
He had no friends to speak about,
He always sat alone at lunch,
And watched the cool Banana Bunch,
Laugh and play and sing and shout,
While Russell always felt left out.

He hated being round and green,

And wished that he was tall and lean,
He often longed for yellow skin,
Cos’ maybe he would then fit in,
And other veggies at the school,
Would start to think that he was cool.
“Calm down, calm down,” said Mr Green,
“Please look at the projector screen.
I’m going to show you, if I may,
What humans do on Christmas Day.”
“Oh cool,” said the Banana Bunch,
I’ve always wondered what they munch,
At Christmas up and down the land,
Oh, golly gosh, I bet it’s grand!”
So, Mr Green then dimmed the light,
And said, “I’m pressing play. Sit tight.”

The whole class watched without a noise,
And even the most naughty boys,
Like Brocka Lee and Collie Flower,
Sat silent for at least an hour.
The video showed everything,
From stocking fillers wrapped in string,
To Christmas trees, a yuletide log,
And how to make a fine eggnog,
And how to decorate your home,
And even make a festive gnome,
And how to write to Santa Claus,
Was met with rapturous applause,
BUT every veggie cared the most,
About the famous Christmas Roast,
And which delicious veggie guest,
The humans really liked the best.

So, when the interviewer said,
(To a young lady dressed in red)
“Which veg is your top pick of all?”
You could have heard a feather fall,
As all the veg leaned in to hear,
Who would be crowned top veg this year,
“Oh,” she said, “I have no doubt,
For me it is the Brussels sprout!
To not have them? Oh, what a shame,
Our Christmas wouldn’t be the same.”
And that, I have to say, my friends,
Is where this sprouty story ends,
Except to say that Russell Stout,
Was from that day a happy sprout,

He learned to loved his round green frame,
And, yes, he liked his new-found fame,
But most all he loved at lunch,
When all of the Banana Bunch,
Came up to him and said (it’s true),
“Hey Russell, can we sit with you?”

The End