Me:
Wyatt, you have to eat something.

Wyatt:
I don’t want this—

Me:
Don’t throw it on the floor.

Wyatt:
And I don’t want this—

Me:
Stop it.

Boone:
Don’t worry. The dog will eat it.

Me:
I didn’t buy that food to feed the dog.

Boone:
Sure tastes like dog food to me.

Wyatt:
Good one, bro.

Me:
Fine. If you’re all done, I’ll just put the rest away.

Wyatt:
Yeah, get that stuff out of my face.

Me:
You guys don’t realize how good you have it. I give you organic chicken breast and fresh tomatoes and blueberries. You eat better than I do.

Boone:
If it’s so great, you eat it.

Me:
Maybe I will. This chicken looks good...

Wyatt:
Hey, Boone. He’s eating it. He’s really eating it.

Boone:
Dude, you’re eating our food.

Me:
You didn’t want it.

Boone:
Wait. Hold on—

Wyatt:
He’s really wolfing that down. Stop him. I’m hungry!

Boone:
Okay, old man. We’ll eat it. Hand it over.

Me:
Too late. The chicken’s gone. Man, was it awesome.

Wyatt:
What’s left?

Me:
There’s some broccoli here.

Wyatt:
Give it! I’m wasting away!

Me:
Not so bad now, is it?

Boone:
You think you’re so clever.

Me:
Perhaps I do.

Boone:
Well, perhaps the dog just threw up all the steamed carrots we fed him.