We all have that one food we just can’t stand.

For me it’s raw tomatoes. Ketchup? Love. Red sauce? Amazing. A raw tomato? No way.

This girl’s poison is beans of any kind, and unfortunately for her grandpa, he didn’t listen when she told him that beans made her sick, and forced her to eat an entire bowl!

Check it out!

Told my grandpa I was allergic to the beans he made for dinner. He doesn’t believe me & insists I eat everything I’ve been served. Ok, you’re the boss.

To preface, I’m allergic (or at the very least wildly intolerant) to beans.

When I was a tot, my mom tried to feed me beans a few times and within five minutes I would projectile vomit right across the kitchen floor.

She put two and two together and after that, no more beans for me.

No more beans, that is, until sje went to stay with her grandparents over holiday!

So jump forward a few years, I was around 6 – 8 yrs old visiting my grandparents for winter break.

I loved hanging out with my grandfather; he’d always bring me neat things like books and logic puzzles for us to play through together.

That day in particular, he had bought me new crushed velvet pajamas covered in stars and comets.

I was super excited to wear them to bed and was already wearing them at the table when everything went down.

Everything was fine until she realized what was on the menu!

Dinner time rolls around and my grandfather reveals that he made slow roasted beans for us.

I immediately tell him and my grandmother that I don’t eat beans because they make me sick. My grandfather rolled his eyes and told me to sit and eat my dinner.

Now, to be fair, I was a little bit of a picky eater, but I never would claim that the food I disliked would make me sick. I’d just say I didn’t like [insert food].

Beans were the only thing I’d explicitly say made me sick.

But despite all of her protests, Grandpa wasn’t letting up!

I repeat again that I don’t eat beans, that my mom never makes me eat them, and that they make me sick.

Grandfather gets mad mad and tells me that either I finish all the beans I had been served or I can go straight to bed and expect to be put on restriction for the next few days.

My grandmother tells him that he should just leave me be, but he isn’t having it.

This was the only time I ever felt anything other than pure wholesome love for my grandpa.

And she realized she had two options in front of her….

He and my grandmother finished their dinner and started to clean up while I thought about what I should do.

On one hand, I could just go to bed and accept that I’d probably have no cartoon time for the next few days.

But I was so mad that he didn’t believe me that I refused to accept being punished for telling to truth.

So she HOUSED those beans, even though she knew what was coming!

So I sat there and ate the entire bowl of beans.

I’m 24 now and that singular bowl of beans probably represents at least 80% of the beans I have ever consumed in my life.

I hated the texture, the smell, absolutely everything about what I was eating, but he said to eat them all so that’s exactly what I was going to do.

About halfway through I start feeling strange but push through it, swallowing the beans whole and washing it down with as much milk and cornbread as possible.

All in all it probably took me 15 or so minutes to finish, but it felt like hours.

With the beans eaten, her grandpa told her to start getting ready for bed…

I finish up, put my bowl in the sink, and softly announce that I’m done with all my food.

I remember he patted me on the back and said “see? it wasn’t that bad was it?” as we walked down the hall towards the bedrooms.

At the very end of the hall was the doorway to his + my grandmother’s bedroom, with a bathroom directly across the hall.

He told me to brush my teeth while he changed into his pajamas, and that he would come to my room afterwards to tuck me in.

But she never got the chance to respond, because the beans were back for round 2!

I open my mouth to say ok and all of a sudden all my alarms go off; I about face so that I’m facing the bathroom.

I try to take the few steps to at least make it to the sink, fail, and proceed to projectile vomit all over the floor, the vanity, the mirror and myself.

Chunks of beans and cornbread collected at my feet as I coughed up everything I had swallowed whole.

The milk mixed with the beans in the most horrific way possible, making the vomit thicker and stickier.

What made things even worse? Her new pajamas were absolutely ruined!

My new pajamas were absolutely ruined and the smell only made me vomit even more.

I started to cry as I stood in a pool of the vilest mixture of fluids I had ever seen come out of my body.

It was so sudden and violent that my grandparents couldn’t even react right away.

My grandmother (who had been lying in bed but could still see everything go down) scooped me up and started consoling me.

I peeped at my grandfather, who was still standing there horrified at what he had just seen, and stammered “I told you beans made me sick” in the most defeated voice I could muster.

And her Grandma told her husband that since he was the one to make her eat the beans, then he was the one who had to clean it up!

My grandmother gave him a death glare and told him curtly that since he had pushed me to eat the beans, he could clean up the beans.

She helped me shower in their bathroom and calm down, until I asked her about my pajamas.

The stomach bile basically ruined them and she told me that we should just throw them away. I cried even harder.

When she finally got me to lay down and go to sleep an hour later, my grandfather was still purging the bathroom.

But Grandpa had learned his lesson, and never forced anyone to eat anything they didn’t want ever again!

The next morning he apologized to me profusely and promised he’d never do anything like that again.

As far as I know, not only did he never again force me to eat anything I said I didn’t want, he extended the same policy to the rest of his grandkids.

Years later, he’d say he could still remember the stench of the bathroom that night and the disgusting sensation of scooping semi solid beans from every imaginable surface.

I don’t know about you, but I could have used FAR less detail on this one.

Reddit said even with how gross it was, this story still managed to touch their hearts…

And this user agreed, saying it was probably one of the rare times that the person ordering the compliance actually learned something!

Many people had their own stories of kids that avoided certain foods like the plague…

And finally, this user felt her pain, saying she was the exact same way with beans!

I was about to make some tacos with refried beans after this, but…

I lost my appetite.

If you liked that post, check out this post about a rude customer who got exactly what they wanted in their pizza.