Excuse me Ms Hargrek. This is Dean's mother Meredith. I've read it all and got your call. I'll not have you pinning my boys legume peculiarities on me like a cheap brooch on me Sunday cardigan. I raised the lad on lamb shanks and love, and yes, tinned beans. As a single mum I used what money I had

We aren't all rich like you!

If he gets the quivers over kidney beans and likes to put them in his bottom, that's between Dean, the Lord, and this unholy business you speak of in his lower intestines. Goodness you flap on.

How dare you. On a Sunday I did put beans on him as the washing machine was going. It made him laugh. It was bonding play. As a child less career woman you'd not understand

But to imply I've made him a fetish for beans. Disgraceful.

Im a good church going widow who still sets a place at the table for my late husband.

Our harmless kitchen rituals still make him laugh In his urn. Laugh! To say I planted a seed of bean love. I will attend therapy on Thursday with you all, but I will be bringing a tin of warmed up Heinz for Dean in my thermos. The tomato ones, the sort he likes.

He used to hide them in all sorts of secretive little places. Nothing deviant. You fancy doctors. Always looking for things that aren't there.

Mrs Meredith Meldrum

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Meredith,

You continue in writing and in sessions, to insist hysterically that you have no part in your son's, frankly astonishingly, erotic fixation on baked beans.

You've described it as his problem, a phase, something picked up on the internet. Meredith the clinical picture tells quite a different story. As Dean's therapist and the only one in this sorry triangle trajned to distinguish fantasy drom memory , I'm obliged to set the record straight.

Dean bean did not develop this in isolation. He acquired it in part from you.

As primary attachment figure your "silly games" with tins. In particular removing the labels so the cans looked more "grown up". Then chilling them and rolling them on yourself . He watched all this. You told him it felt naughty and nice. You encouraged him to touch cans. Just to see. And laughed when he imitated you with cans. He has told me. You praised him when he pressed tins to his cheeks of cold cans . And sighed like you.

Though innocent seeming these weren't isolated incidents Meredith. They form a pattern . Private , charged , and involving beans as the central prop. To young Dean the most powerful sexual imprint was not genital. It was what fused arousal, curiosity, the taboo, you and beans. In a single moment. Do you understand? For Dean that moment was the cold gleam of metal , the smell of Heinz and the sound of your breath catching when handling the beans.

I'm not blaming you in the crude moral sense you seem desperaTe to evoke. I am statimg the clinical facts: YOU were the original source of dean bean conditioning.

Dean's inability to experience sex without beans, lentils, chickpeas or radishes , tins, cans etc is not a random thing Meredith.

You can shout at me . It changes nothing. The material is there in Dean's sessions and it is painfully consistent.

I am not trying to shame you Meredith. I am trying to help you. Will you let me do that? Will you accept your beansponsiibility? You son is miserably entangled in an intense sexual love affair with many beans. We have to name this before we can beanheal it.

Meredith. You need to admit to me, the beans began with you.

Yours sincerely,

Dr Eleanor Hardrakes

FRANZCP, Clinical Psychiatrist and Senior Lecturer

Hey Mom! Hey Dr Hargridge! While you 2 fight in your beans less existence I've liberated myself. I'm done with endless therapy sessions and I'm off to summer camp.

I'm checking into camp legumina tomorrow. Adults only, exclusive retreat. No more pointless , boring human emotions with you losers. I'm going to an air conditioned yurt to meet some of the finest, ripest, most consenting peas and beans money can buy.

I will peel back the green pods. I will start slow then plunge in, spreading the butter beans wide, raw, thrust into their little hilums quivering n popping. Then I'll thrust Into snow peas where you bitches can't find me. Crisp sweet eager snow peas like lil vagines. I'll slide and bruse the crisp green lips of the snow peas. Then take the chick peas roughly. So roughly. Roast them lightly to tighten the skins then grind in deep and burst the guts all over my dicks..

I'm gonna suck edamame mom. There are no safe words at this camp!

Only safe DEAN. only safe bean on PEAN.

DEANS PEAN.

You should see me by the end of the week. Wet I will be.

So don't plan any more interventions cause Dean's away to play. You can tell anyone who asks I've gone to a plant based convention if you like. I don't care what you say or do. Deany mcfuckbean is cutting loose for a while....

Deany mcfuckbean.