Dinner time often yields the best blog material.
SCENE: DINNER TIME. ENCHILADAS (EXCEPT FOR THE PEARL WHO IS KEPT QUIET ON A STEADY DINNER DIET OF GREEN BEANS AND M&M'S)
Pixie: But I don't waaaaant to eat.
Dad: It's enchilada's. It's not even spicy. It's normal food. Eat a bite.
Pixie: But I don't like it. It's gross!
Dad: You haven't even tried it. Good grief.
Pixie: But it loooooks gross.
Dad: Listen, some day you are going to go to another country, maybe even a third world country and they are going to feed you something that looks disgusting, I know this from personal experience and . . . have to . . . goat . . . me . . . vomit . . . that kind of over privileged . . . so eat.
Princess: Dad, dad, dad. We don't need to bring up third world countries right now.
Pirate (beginning his second helping): Does this have tuna in it?
Dad: No.
Pirate: Because I don't like tuna.
Dad: It's chicken.
Pixie: WELL I don't like it.
Pirate (licking the plate): And it tastes like tuna.
Mom: Tuna tastes like chicken, do you want more?
Pixie: I hate it and I won't eat it.
Dad: You'll eat it until you like it.
Pixie: OK then, I kind of already liked my first bite.
Dad: Then you can happily eat more.
Pirate: If she has to eat it until she likes it she's going to have to eat as much as this whole house.
Princess: I like it.
Pirate: I think there is tuna in it, or some kind of fish.
Dad: No! No fish. It's chicken.
Pirate: . . . and fish.
Dad: Pixie, here is your second bite.
Pixie: Nope. I'm done eating it.