biscuit: Mommy, I made you some pie. (presents me with a puzzle piece on a book)
me: Thank you very much, but I don't like pie.
biscuit: It's the most sweet and delicious apple pie EVER MADE.
me: No thank you. I do not care for pie.
biscuit: (switches puzzle piece for wooden toast) Okay. Here's some banana pie.
me: You eat it, dude. I really don't like pie.
biscuit: BUT IT'S NICE AND HOT AND COOKED.
me: YES, THAT'S WHY I HATE IT. I DON'T LIKE PIE. I DON'T LIKE HOT FRUIT. I NEVER WILL. BUT THANK YOU ANYWAY.
biscuit: EAT. THE. PIE.
me: NOT. GOING. TO. HAPPEN.
biscuit: But I cooked it just for you, and you're supposed to eat things you don't like.
me: I appreciate the thought. You get full points for thoughtfulness and cooking prowess. But I have never liked pie. And I never will. Ever. And the whole 'eat things you don't like' means healthy vegetables, not sugary crud. No one ever has to eat pie if they don't want to. Just broccoli and sweet potatoes.
biscuit: (shoves wooden toast at my mouth) Eat the pie. It's good for you.
me: (pursing lips closed, words muffled) No, I utterly refuse.
biscuit: You are not being very good.
me: I'm not the one forcing pie on innocent people who just want to finish a cup of coffee on Monday morning. Go make some fake cake or some lamb pasanda, if you want me to fake eat it.
biscuit: I don't want to make those things. And you will have to go to bed without dinner if you don't eat this pie.
me: Fine. I choose starvation over pie.
biscuit: You can't have any yogurt, either.
me: That's awesome, BECAUSE I HATE YOGURT, TOO.
biscuit: (sighs) I just wish you'd eat the pie.
me: You and Sara Lee, both, dude.