I should be offended that Benett will lick a dirty pumpkin or eat crumbs from the kitchen floor without a thought. But when it comes to eating a meal. Something that I've actually prepared, he refuses. Vehemently refuses.
He would rather lick a gourd and scavenge from the floor than eat my cooking. I should be offended. But I'm not. Why? Well, little boys grow into men. And if Benett is anything like his father, he will try my cooking and smile. He'll tell me how much he likes it despite the fact that I know he doesn't. And I'll love him for pretending. Until he has a bowl of cereal later.
That's what us boys do!
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