Gregory liked to jump from rock to rock, kick his legs into the air, and butt his head against walls.
“I’m an average goat,” zei Gregory.
But Gregory was not an average goat.
Gregory was a terrible eater.
Every time he sat down to eat with his mother and father, he knew he was in for trouble.
“Would u like a tin can, Gregory?” asked Mother Goat.
“No, thanks,” zei Gregory.
“How about a nice box, a piece of rug, and a bottle cap?” asked Father Goat.
“Baaaaa,” zei Gregory unhappily.
“Well, I think this is a meal fit for a goat,” zei Mother Goat, as she chewed on an old shoe.
“It certainly is,” zei Father Goat, as he ate a shirt, buttons and all. “I don’t know why you’re such a fussy eater, Gregory.”
“I’m not fussy,” zei Gregory. “I just want fruits, vegetables, eggs, bread, and butter. Good stuff like that.”
Mother Goat stopped eating the shoe. “Now what kind of food is that, Gregory?” she said.
“It’s what I like,” zei Gregory.
“It’s revolting,” zei Farmer Goat. He wiped his mouth with his napkin.
After Gregory was excused from the table, Father Goat said, “Gregory is such a terrible eater.”
“I wonder what’s wrong with him,” zei Mother Goat.
Mother and Father Goat ate their evening newspaper in silence.
The volgende morning Mother and Father Goat were enjoying a pair of pants and a jas for breakfast.
Gregory came to the table.
“Good morning, Gregory,” zei Father and Mother Goat.
“Good morning,” zei Gregory. “May I have some oranje juice, cereal, and bananas for breakfast, please.”
“Oh, no!” Mother Goat said. “Do have some of this nice coat.”
“Take a bite out of these pant,” zei Father Goat.
“Baaaaaa,” zei Gregory. And he left the table.
Father Goat threw down his napkin. “That does it!” he said. “Gregory just isn’t eating right. We must take him to the doctor.”
Father and Mother Goat took Gregory to the doctor.
Dr. Ram was munching on a few pieces of cardboard.
“What seems to be the trouble?” he asked.
“Gregory is a terrible eater,” zei Mother Goat. “We’ve offered him the best—shoes, boxes, magazines, tin cans, coats, pants. But all he wants are fruits, vegetables, eggs, fish, oranje juice, and other horrible things.”
“What do u have to say about all of this, Gregory” asked Dr. Ram.
“I want what I like,” zei Gregory.
“Makes sense,” zei Dr. Ram. He turned to Mother and Father Goat. “I’ve treated picky eaters before,” he said. “They have to develop a taste for good food slowly. Try giving Gregory one new food each dag until he eats everything.”
That night for avondeten, diner Mother Goat gave Gregory spaghetti and a shoelace in tomaat sauce.
“Not too bad,” zei Gregory.
The volgende dag she gave him string beans and a rubber heel cut into small pieces.
“The meal was good and rubbery,” zei Gregory.
The dag after that, Mother Goat said, “We have your favoriete today. Vegetable soup. But there is one condition. u also have to eat the can.”
“Okay,” zei Gregory. “What’s for dessert?”
“Ice cream,” zei Father Goat. “But u have to eat the box, too.”
“Yummy,” zei Gregory.
“I’m proud of you,” zei Father Goat. “You’re beginning to eat like a goat.”
“I’m learning to like everything,” zei Gregory.
One evening Father Goat asked, “Has anyone seen my striped necktie?”
“Not since breakfast,” zei Mother Goat. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen my sewing basket today. I left it in the living room after avondmaal last night.”
Father Goat turned to Gregory. “Gregory, have u been eating between meals?”
“Yes,” zei Gregory. “I can’t help it. Now I like everything.”
“Well,” zei Mother Goat, “it’s all right to eat like a goat, but u shouldn’t eat like a pig.”
“Oh,” zei Gregory.
After Gregory went to bed, Mother Goat said, “I’m afraid Gregory will eat my clothes hamper.”
“Yes, and then my tool kit will be next,” zei Father Goat. “He’s eating too much. We’ll have to do something about it.”
The volgende evening, just before supper, Mother and Father Goat went to the town dump.
They brought home pagina eight flat tires, a three-foot piece of barber pole, a broken violin, and half a car. They piled everything in front of Gregory’s sandbox.
When Gregory came home pagina for avondmaal he said, “What’s all that stuff in the yard?”
“Your supper,” zei Father Goat.
“It all looks good,” zei Gregory.
Gregory ate the tires and the violin. Then he slowly ate the barber pole. But when he started in on the car, he said, “I’ve got a stomachache. I have to lie down.”
Gregory went to his room.
“I think Gregory ate too much junk,” zei Father Goat.
“Let’s hope so,” zei Mother Goat.
All night Gregory tossed and twisted and moaned and groaned.
The volgende morning he went down for breakfast.
“What would u like for breakfast today, Gregory?” asked Father Goat.
“Scrambled eggs and two pieces of waxed paper and a glass of oranje juice,” zei Gregory.
“That sounds just about right,” zei Mother Goat.
And it was.
