"A PECK OF DIRT"

As the old adage goes “you eat a peck of dirt before you die.”
Now that is a lot of dirt!
A peck is a dry measure equal to a quarter of a bushel or 8 quarts, and for our friends elsewhere in the world that comes to roughly 9 litres.
The USDA governs the amount of dirt we consume along with the many microbes, rodent hairs and other unseen yuckies!
We put food into our bodies that we think is clean and never realize it is dirty until we chomp a miniscule piece of grit and spit it out. A piece so small that we cannot see it, yet we feel its presence on our tongue most repulsive. One little speck! That is only a drop in the bucket (or peck) that we theoretically devour in a lifetime.
Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t detest a little dirt in my food and generally expect to find some on a jacket of a baked potato and I almost demand to see an ultra-fine layer of grit in the bottom of a bowl of authentic clam chowder ( that ain’t really dirt! just some sand).

So..What about the people that eat dirt for the fun of it? Affectionately know as “Geophages” (Geo from the Greek meaning “Earth” and phagein meaning “to eat”). These people gain pleasure and sooth a craving by eating dirt on a regular basis. Maybe it’s a vitamin deficiency.
I don’t think I’ll ever understand that one, but to each his own.

The part about being repulsed by a mouthful of dirt brings me to the point of this post.
Last month during the next to final game of our soccer season, my son was on the receiving end of a fist that connected to his cheek while being sat upon by an older teammate before a game. He had never been subjected to any physical violence in his four years and was totally caught off-guard. He has never been around someone that derives sadistic pleasure from bullying and has always seen the good in everyone. (the innocence of a child, and one I wish he will always keep. I told him some people are mean and want to hurt others, his response was simply “why daddy?”
I witnessed the attack and promptly rescued him all the while making a small scene with my quick temper (I need a lot of your prayers with this one).
After drying the tears and telling his mommy what had just unfolded, we told him just to keep his distance from the kid and stay to himself, we only had one game left.
The week proceeded and more talk about the incident brought the same advice. Stay away!
Well, that final game came and went without any confrontation. After the game the coach (which shall remain nameless) came to me and said, “Well, he got him back”. Immediately my heart raced and I replayed the game in my head. I didn’t see him do anything to the other kid. I asked what did he do? The coach said the kid came running to him and complained that my son had put dirt in his water bottle!
Justice served! That was on the sideline during the game. I know he wasn’t thinking about retaliation, he just randomly filled water bottles and probably his own as well, and had fun doing it! A non-physical retaliation to a physical assault.
Then at the end-of season banquet, all was well and forgotten, if only we as adults could forget and forgive as easily.

So…..that kid has a real head start on the 8 pounds he is gonna eat.

Maybe he can ask Santa for a spoon for Christmas!