Why We Don't Have Guests

We rarely have guests for dinner. It isn't a conscious decision, it just doesn't seem to happen often. Today provided a bit of insight as to why this may be the case. Today we had a dinner guest. Our beloved Kiki had dinner at the K house ...
and she may never return.

Tonight's dinner was like most others. I didn't prepare spaghetti-o's, fish sticks, cheese sandwiches or some other item considered one of the major food groups by the under six crowd. What I did prepare contained meat and clearly identifiable vegetables. Not surprisingly, it was not given a warm welcome upon it's arrival to the table.

It went something like this:
Diva: "What's this?"
Me: "Dinner"
Diva: "But I don't like it!"
Me: "Do you know what it is?"
Diva: "No, but I don't like it!"
Me: "Have you tasted it?"
Diva: "No, but don't like it!"
Me: "How do you know if you don't like it? You don't know what it is and you haven't tasted it!"
Diva: "I'm not eating it!"
Me: *insert basic "Mom" lecture here - you have to at least taste it, nothing else if you don't eat your dinner, etc,*
Diva then took the smallest bite possible ... and promptly puked it back into her plate.
It should be noted that Kiki was sitting beside Diva, no doubt the best view of all the action.

So, who wants to come to dinner at the K house?