I Hate Brussels Sprouts!

I know that stink! I have no doubts
That Mom has cooked up Brussels sprouts.
Of all the things that I despise,
The Brussels sprout would take first prize.

I've blocked my nose and tried to swallow,
Guzzled lots of milk to follow,
But I can tell you nothing works
'Cause in my mouth the taste still lurks.

Once I slipped one in my pocket,
But after dinner I forgot it.
Next day I shoved my hand in there
And gave myself a nasty scare.

In Mom's pot plant I used to hide
A sprout or two, but then IT DIED!
And now my sister's learned to count,
I can't add to her sprout amount.

My dog won't even help me out.
He will not eat a Brussels sprout.
He'll lick his butt, eat possum poop,
But to eat sprouts he will not stoop.

Maybe it is just as well
Because his farts already smell.
He does not need a Brussels sprout
To turbocharge what's coming out!

Please Mom, can we work out a deal
That gets me out of this here meal?
I'd clear the table, do the dishes,
Be your genie, grant you wishes.

I'd clean my room a little later
And feed the dog (that little traitor!).
I'd pull weeds till my hands blister.
I'd even play nice with my sister.

But Mom, it would be best all around
If other veggies could be found,
So we could all just go without
The gross, revolting Brussels sprout!