Three Tomatoes Were Out For A Walk
The son, through no fault of his own, was naturally smaller than his parents, and so continually fell behind.
The father's sun-ripened mind saw it as a character flaw, if not a studied insult--deliberate lollygagging and he would take no such insolence from the fruit of his loins. In a towering, thundering rage, he stormed back to the boy and with a roar of "You are no son of mine"! and a mighty stomp, crushed the little lad into the pavement. Red tomatoe juice squirting everywhere, splashing on the father's face, boots, sidewalk and even the wooden fence along the street.
Shrieking in agony, the child tried desperately to free himself, too addled by the pain to try reasoning with his parent.
His father was inflamed even more so he ground his foot onto the cement, as though doing something of no more import than crushing out a used cigarette. He continued grinding until the child was well and truly smashed flat with the remains strewn across the pavement.
Little baby tomatoe with agonising expressions and shrieks, shattered the peaceful illusion and finally, mercifully, the screams died out
The mother, too shocked by the horror to have spoken up before now, she dropped to her knees, weeping and sobbed, "What have you done?! Why?! How could you do such a horrible thing to anyone, let alone your son?! Your only son..."
Father tomatoe turned around, his face now placid and as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world, said, "He was falling behind. He needed to ketchup".