World hunger is something my mother made sure I was educated on from a young age. With one simple instruction, she would sum up the problem, solution, and geographical focus of this urgent matter. “Finish your broccoli,” she would say. There are hungry kids in China.” Well China, I’ve done my part. Now, how about a little acknowledgment?
Look, I’m not saying I need one of them dragon parades or whatever, because in a strange way, saving human lives is almost a reward in and of itself. Almost. But the fact is, to this day I’ve never received a single thank you letter, iPhone, or pair of Nikes. And yet we can’t seem to applaud enough for some guy who stood in front of a tank. Unless he was munching away on a broccoli stalk at the time, I don’t want to hear it.
Even now, I force my children to always finish the cans of broccoli in our cabinet, no matter how far past the expiration date they are. And trust me, with something as disgusting as broccoli, it’s easy to let it go bad. Do you know how hard it is to eat that crap, youths of China? Apparently not, assuming my Mom was correct in her concerns about you folks.
I’m not asking for much, China. I would just like a single “thank you” from all of your children, collectively at once. I’m confident you can pull it off. I watched the opening of the Beijing Olypics.