For parents and children, the subjects of what, when, and how much to eat are vexing, endlessly debatable, and, I think, a source of skepticism that can often stretch lifetimes. Remembering the hours we have probably logged projecting false confidence that our children will actually like what we are foisting, and overlook it's textural challenges, and olfactory red flags, the fact that it's not cake - really, they would be foolish to completely trust us about anything ever again.
How food arrives in our vicinity can seem so magnificently convenient sometimes, it's no wonder when we fail to acknowledge its improbable variations. Consider a pomegranate. Ostrich eggs. Squid! Look at an ear of corn for heaven's sake: imagine happening on that at the top of a seven foot stalk without knowing better.
Or imagine a carrot so massive it needs to be harvested in a wheelbarrow. Or a monster made entirely out of leftover lima beans buried in your backyard. Imagine donuts "laced with kiwi jam, and served inside an open clam!" Imagine gingerbread communities coming to life when you sleep, and fleeing sausages and flying pies, and hard bitten cookie-detectives in the bottom of that jar. Imagine red lemons. Now try imagining that the nutritional content of any food is hopefully the least interesting thing about it.
