the rationale

At our house we have rules about food, rules which were forged in days of conflict and negotiation after a final, fateful tantrum thrown by the Drunken Housewife over ungrateful children whining over their nice meals. In the years since the Food Rules were created -- in a convocation practically rivaling that of the Original Founders --, peace has largely reigned, and everyone lives by the system.

That doesn't mean that there isn't scope for the lively young mind of seven year-old Lola, though. Tonight the children were eager to be deemed "dessert qualified", as, wonder of wonders, for once we had an actual dessert on hand, a lemon cake. To be "dessert qualified", a child must have eaten a reasonable portion of dinner (and there are all sorts of rules about how a child cannot be required to eat something she genuinely dislikes, but she must try a new food in good faith, assuming Mommy has left out all ingredients acknowledged by all as loathed by the child in question, etc.., etc...).

Iris was clearly dessert qualified, having mowed through a large amount of roasted asparagus, but Lola was not. I suggested that if she finished the piece of asparagus she had in her hand, we'd call it a day and let the cake be served. Lola moved her eyebrows up and down quizzically, and then explained, "Since we are vegetarians... and since we eat so many vegetables.... we are pretty much made out of vegetables! So this is like meat! It's like me eating meat!"

She looked at me to gauge the effect this had had, and then carried on, slightly adjusting her tack. "And since we're pretty much made out of vegetables, what's the point? Why should I have to eat this? I mean, come on? I'm made out of vegetables!" She brandished the piece of asparagus with disgust. "Now, what should I do with this?"