Don't make me eat, please!

I remembered today a story from my childhood.  I didn't like to eat much, so my parents decided I would stay on the table until I had eaten everything on my plate. That resulted in a third of my first childhood years spent in the dining table, while other children played outside.  I even remembered falling asleep on the table several times, as I wasn't allowed to leave it, and being woken up abruptly by one of my parents to force food into my mouth (through my tears, may I add). They apparently thought I had to eat to stay alive. I know, right? Go figure.

As I reflected on that story, I think my parents did a good job, as nowadays you would probably have to beat me to stop me from eating.  As usual, I blame my parents from everything that is wrong with my life :P