Food is for losers
The baby that lives at my house, the one that screams at me all day long, refuses to eat anything that resembles actual food.
Cheetos, not a problem. Juice, bring it on woman. Fruit snack, load my plate up lady. Alfredo and noodles, not a chance fat a**. Get it out of my sight and just because you ate some I am going to cry and blubber the rest of the evening. I, the man child, have a point to prove. Because obviously you are a little dense woman, and do not understand that in my life syllabus I outlined the three foods that I will eat. So dear lady, you had best not try to feed me anything else ever again or I will be forced to hit you with my spoon repeatedly.
Love,
Gentry
(You know who is in charge here).