Growing up, my mom would usually have to cook me a separate dinner from my siblings. Why? Because I was ridiculously picky and wouldn't eat the same foods as everyone else. Trust me, it gets old. It's not my fault certain things just taste gross, you learn to live with it.
I'll take a bite of a burger every once in a while just to reaffirm that it still tastes like dirt. I just have to know. Don't even get me started on vegetables.
Don't ask me about my eating habits unless you want to get into a long, confusing conversation.
You hate to tell their parents just how much you hate the food that they gave you. So, you sucked it up and ate it anyway only to come home and whine to your parents.
Pizza, maybe. Chicken tenders, always.
It's like, wow! Look at me being all adventurous.
Crazy times. This rarely happens.
Oops. At restaurants it's either left on your plate or your order is very specified.