Not Picky Just Fighting To Survive

Summary

My family called me the Picky Prince.

According to them, the dinner rolls were always too dense, the greens were always too bitter, and meat was something I refused to touch on principle.

My mother would slam both palms against our kitchen island until the coffee mugs rattled: "If you keep this up, you're going to starve yourself into an emergency room!"

My father was far more ambitious. He bypassed the lectures and signed me up for a primetime reality show called "Country Reset", where spoiled suburban kids were shipped out to working farmsteads in the Blue Ridge Mountains to learn…