Part 2The Picky Princess Was Never Picky

"City Kids Gone Country" was a reality show for spoiled city kids, bossy little brats, and hopelessly picky eaters. The night Mom saw the promo, her eyes lit up like she'd found treasure.

She slapped her thigh. "This is it! Let the whole country see what I have to put up with!"

Dad agreed right away. "Exactly. Maybe Maisie will finally learn not to take food for granted."

On the application, under "Reason for Participation," Mom carefully wrote, "Extremely picky eater. Refuses almost everything we serve."

Dad added, "Maybe going hungry for a while will make her behave."

But when our relatives heard the news, they reacted nothing like Mom and Dad expected. Aunt Lydia was the first one to rush over.

She'd barely made it through the door before she grabbed Mom's arm. "Penny, Maisie really isn't that picky."

She stopped there, thought for a second, then tried again. "Maybe you could get a new pot first?"

Mom looked confused. "What's wrong with this one? It works just fine."

Aunt Lydia looked at the pot Dad had used to make the green soup. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.

Finally, she said, "A new pot might bring you some luck."

Uncle Tony showed up too. He pulled Dad aside and spent forever talking in circles. "Steve, Maisie's still little. Country life is hard. She might not be able to handle it."

Dad blew out a ring of smoke. "You all spoil her too much. That's why she keeps getting pickier and pickier."

Uncle Tony opened his mouth, glanced toward the kitchen, then swallowed whatever he'd been about to say. He looked at Dad like Dad was the one who needed help.

That night, one relative after another called to talk Mom and Dad out of sending me on the show. The house phone rang so much I thought it was going to overheat.

Aunt Doris offered to let me stay with her for a month. She even said she'd pay for us to hire a cook.

Mom refused every offer. "The more you baby her, the worse she gets."

Dad went ahead and paid the entry fee so there was no turning back.

"The money's already paid. We're not backing out now," he said.

Grandma was the last one to call. Her voice was shaking. "You're really going to send her?"

Mom answered without hesitation, "Yes! I want the whole country to see just how picky she is."

Grandma was quiet for a long time before finally saying, "This is just awful."

Once everyone realized they couldn't change Mom and Dad's minds, they came up with Plan B. They decided to make sure I had plenty to eat.

The night before I left, they secretly gathered in my room and crowded around me like we were planning some kind of secret mission.

Aunt Lydia stuffed a few granola bars into my backpack. "Eat these if you get hungry."

Uncle Tony slipped in some beef sticks. "Keep these hidden. Don't let your mom see."

Grandma added a huge bag of cookies, her hands shaking as she tucked them inside.

Grandpa lowered his voice and gave me a very serious look. "Maisie, when you get there, don't go telling everyone about stuff from home."

"What stuff?"

Grandpa paused. "You know, the stuff about your parents' cooking. No need to embarrass them."

I wasn't totally sure what he meant, but I nodded anyway.

My backpack was packed as full as it could get, but seeing all those snacks only made me more nervous.

The food at home was already awful, and my relatives were cramming my bag with snacks. So that could only mean one thing.

The food there had to be even worse.

I hugged my backpack to my chest and prepared myself to go hungry for a whole month.

The day I left, Mom faced the show's camera and announced, "I want the whole country to see just how fussy this kid is!"

The camera turned toward me, but I didn't react.

After we'd driven a long way, I turned around and looked back through the window.

Aunt Lydia, Uncle Tony, Grandma, and Grandpa stood in a row, all waving goodbye. They looked like they were sending me off to war.

Mom and Dad stood in front of them, looking completely sure I'd come crying and begging to go home.

They had no idea what was coming.