Reminds me of eons ago. If you didn’t like it and taste 2 bites, you sat at the table with it in front of you till you
then, had to eat it all. I hated oatmeal mush. Sat many Saturdays in front of that confounded bowl. Yucky our wolf sat under the table and helped me.
Yeh, but I just had to take one bite. I was so skinny that my brother called me names like bird legs and bones.
Eventually, the concern over my underweight led to doses of cod-liver oil, and lots of my favorite foods, gratitude that I was eating something, and less interest in me trying new stuff.LOL