So, tonight I'm finishing off a garlic cream sauce to go over fetucinni and chicken for dinner (yes, I'm possibly the most underappreciated gourmet cook in America) and I add just a dollop of yogurt for creamy thickness and tang without all the fat of sour cream. Unfortunately, someone let my family into the kitchen while I was cooking, and my mom sees me and blurts out "YOGURT?!?!" which of course summons the attention of my sister, who loves fetucinni with chicken but subsequently comes to refuse to consume this batch simply because of that little dollop of yogurt. Grrrr... My sister is a notoriously picky-eater. The other night was saying the prayer to bless our food, and my sister happened to look down and see a little fruit fly that had landed on her ear of corn. In the middle of said prayer my sister begins screaming and leaps up from her chair and begins running around the room yelling "Ewww, ewww!" She then decided that she wasn't really hungry for any more of her dinner. All because of a little tiny fly.
So, after tonight's yogurt fiasco, I was fed up. So in my wrath I laid upon her the Curse of the Picky-Eaters. I told her that she would grow up to become a missionary in Africa and eat bugs every day that have been roasted on a spit over a fire until they're nice and crunchy. I think that might have contributed to the subsequent loss of appetite.
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