My 4-year-old Japanese-Scottish son is a fussy eater.
“But I don’t like this chicken, Daddy,” he protests at dinner.
His intonation and phrasing seem cute to me. I am tempted to take the offending chicken from his plate and let him subsist solely on white rice and salad, as he would like. But I resist, and tell him that his favorite sumo wrestler, Asashoryu, ate lots of chicken to make him strong, too.
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