Recently, my daughter decided she wanted to be a vegetarian, this action infuriated Daddy as we pulled into the barbecue restaurant for my youngest sons birthday. I felt this act was selfish, that she had made up this decision as a way of punishing me for my excellent parenting skills. As I explained that this form of requesting a special dietary option as we pull into barbecue joint was unacceptable. I told her that being a vegetarian is similar to quitting smoking and one must set a quit date for meat.
Further I asked, “Daddy would love to understand why you no longer want to partake in dead animal flesh, from poorly mistreated animals, that were probably beaten and abused before they got on our plate.” She replied that, “She doesn’t like the taste of meat.” This response sent Daddy into a tizzy. I immediately started yelling which is Daddy’s first and only line of defense. As I screamed at my daughter that she could have approached her new found vegetarianism in so many different ways and that I feel like she has decided to become a vegetarian as a way of rebelling against Daddy and I feel like she is holding a shotgun to my head. I told her I would never conform to this and she can now consider herself a starvetarian because Daddy will no longer feed her.
After this altercation we went inside the restaurant. My daughter calmly pointed out that they have these things called salads and that they are very comparable in price to the item she would normally order. I looked at her with eyes of defeat and allowed her to get a salad. The salad came and she looked at some of the vegetables in disgust. I explained she has to eat all of the vegetables or she is no longer a vegetarian. She said she doesn’t like peppers, onions, or mushrooms. I said, “Why don’t we get a chicken sandwich and forget this ever happened?” She nodded her head in agreement. Then we went home and watch a PETA documentary on chickens and laughed.