Parents, let’s talk about broccoli. That tiny green tree that kids treat like it’s radioactive. For years, I tried everything to get Max, my 6-year-old son, to eat it. I begged. I bribed. I even tried the old “airplane into the hangar” trick. But no. Max treated broccoli like it was his arch-nemesis, and he was the superhero sworn to never let it touch his lips.

For five long years, broccoli was the enemy. Five. Years. That’s longer than most celebrity marriages. But then, one day, inspiration struck. And by “inspiration,” I mean I decided to weaponize Max’s competitive spirit.

Here’s how it went down.

I was sitting at the dinner table, staring at a piece of broccoli on my plate, when I casually said, “You know, Max, broccoli makes you stronger. If you eat it, you might even be able to beat me in an arm wrestle.”

Max’s eyes lit up like I’d just told him he could have ice cream for breakfast. “Really?” he asked.

“Really,” I said, nodding solemnly. “Broccoli is basically spinach for regular people. It’s like Popeye fuel.”

Max looked at the broccoli on his plate like it was a tiny green power-up in a video game. Then, with the determination of a kid who’s about to prove something to the world, he picked it up and ate it.

I’ll be honest: I almost cried. Five years of broccoli battles, and all it took was one poorly thought-out lie about arm wrestling.

But the show wasn’t over. Oh no. Max immediately challenged me to an arm wrestle. And because I’m a dad who knows how to commit to a bit, I agreed.

We set up at the table, locked hands, and counted down. “3… 2… 1… GO!”

Now, let me be clear: I could have beaten Max with one hand tied behind my back. But where’s the fun in that? Instead, I put on the performance of a lifetime. I grimaced. I groaned. I pretended to struggle like I was lifting a car off a baby. And then, with a dramatic flourish, I let him win, throwing myself onto the floor like I’d just been defeated by a WWE wrestler.

Max’s face was priceless. He jumped up, fists in the air, shouting, “I DID IT! I BEAT DAD!”

And just like that, broccoli was no longer the enemy. It was the secret weapon. The key to victory. The green glory that would help him dominate all future arm-wrestling matches.

Since that day, Max has been eating broccoli regularly. Not because he likes it (let’s be real, it’s still broccoli), but because he’s convinced it gives him super strength. And every now and then, he’ll challenge me to an arm wrestle, and I’ll let him win—complete with over-the-top theatrics and a dramatic collapse onto the floor.

So, to all the parents out there: never underestimate the power of a well-timed dad lie. If your kid won’t eat their veggies, turn it into a challenge. If they won’t try something new, make it part of a game. And if all else fails, throw yourself on the floor like a WWE wrestler. It’s all about commitment.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go figure out how to convince Max that carrots will help him beat me in a thumb war.

Stay sneaky, parents. And may your broccoli battles always end in victory (and occasional floor collapses).

Love from Dad (and part-time arm-wrestling actor) 🥦💪