Food Fight

Just. Eat. It.

Here's my horrifying secret: I've been trying to poison Kraken Junior. You know, slipping digitalis and crushed yew berries into her Petits Filous, watching her wilt and pale over the following months...Well, at least that's what you'd think had been happening if you were to overhear her squealing tones during any given frigging mealtime. I mean, what in the fuck is with her increasingly queer culinary demands?
It's like feeding a panicky Saddam Hussain: the peas can't touch the gravy; the sauce can't touch the sausages; the mash can't have potato skin in it; the parsley sauce mustn't contain 'bits'; the spag bol must have the onion picked out of it; the yoghurt must be pink; the mice must be alive; the goats must be virgins...Jesus Christ, Karen Carpenter would have been easier to feed. 
So what, exactly, will happen if any of these arbitrary rules are suddenly and recklessly transgressed? If Kraken Junior's bug-eyed terror is anything to go by a hole will be torn in the fabric of the universe and the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse will gallop through. If my bug-eyed frustration is anything to go by the social services will be called in and I'll make headline news with my swirling cudgel. 
I don't give into 98 per cent of these deranged grumblings. I'll be utterly fucked if I'm going to spend ten minutes of my time plucking the parsley out of the fish sauce. If I wanted to serve royalty I'd enrol at Eton and toss onto a digestive. 
Course, this whole frigging rigmarole happens every day and, worse, with food Kraken Junior loves. So it matters not if I knock up a glorious pile of sausage and mash. Should the gravy be pooled around the curling bangers rather than over them the sun will suddenly darken, locusts will start battering at the windows, and Kraken Junior will be greeted with a stout, "For fuck's sake!". An Enid Blyton picnic it ain't.
I'm going to start presenting Kraken Junior with the contents of a compost heap to show her what it's really like to be fed inedibles. A couple of slugs and decomposing pondweed should do it. Oh and some digitalis and yew berries. That should really give her something to holler about.