Not Picky Just Fighting To Survive
Language: en
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…