If I were made of lettuce, I wonder what type of lettuce I would be. Cool iceberg perhaps; or richly-hued chromatic romaine; butterhead bibb maybe; or even a sort of rangy, free-wheelin' organic loose leaf.
Would slugs be attracted me? Would I make a good, reliable salad for the discerning Waldorfian?
Alas, I believe I would almost certainly be shallow-rooted and aphid-harried. But I think that just comes with the territory.
And I don't think I'd like to have bits ripped off me for lining a ham sandwich. Nor would I like to be the decoratiive bed for some ridiculously microscopic vegetable appetizer at an over-priced swishy restaurant. I'd feel so manipulated, so used and abused.
But overall, if I were a lettuce, I think I'd like to marry a snow pea.
