So I'm reading washingtonpost.com and I come across this story about adult picky eaters.
Naturally, I had to leave a comment and admittedly I was harsh. So someone called me mean and I decided to put my response here as well because the Post's comment deal took out some of the punctuation and spacing that made my reply read properly.
Keyles - I'm "mean" because I refuse to indulge adults in childish behavior? Please.
Food and eating are joyous things to be shared with friends and family. I'm the father of the world's most wonderful little 18 month-old and one of the great pleasures of my life is sharing new foods with her. I love watching her little face as she encounters a new food for the first time. First picking it up and looking at it, holding it to her nose for a smell and some clue about what it may be, and finally popping it in her mouth to taste what new delight Poppa has brought her.
I'm not just nourishing my child's body at meal time; I am also teaching her to trust me, I am teaching her how to socialize, and I am teaching her to not be afraid of new things.
How sad it must be to live a life where you don't have the bonding experience of sharing a leisurely meal with a new friend. Where there is no prospect of being exposed to some new culinary delight. It's a character building experience to have to choke down some sort of bizarre meal so as to not offend. My sister and I still laugh about "the banana drink" meal that we shared with one of our uncle's ex-wife and have used that experience to connect with youngsters in our extended family that were having a bad meal.
The truth is that I pity these poor fools more than anything else. It's all well and good to have preferences, but people who can't eat a food that has touched something else on their plate probably need professional help.
No my friend, I don't eat so that I can live; I live, so that I may eat.