My grandkids refused my offer for food and now I simply must die.

Sacred rules were broken today.

Every 30 minutes I offer my grandchildren food because I simply MUST. I am called to — I feel the blood rush through me like a siren call, but instead of calling for lovers upon my shores, it’s for pastries and cabbage stews. It is my purpose in life to plump them up like Foster Farms turkeys and the more rotund they are, the harder it is for them to leave.

But, today, I received the shock of my life: one of my grandchildren refused the food I offered. How could this be? Is there no respect for elders anymore?

I fell to my knees and hit my life alert button. The 911 operator said that my grandkids being rude was not a valid reason to call them. To add insult to injury, they said that it sounded like I was committing a CIA level of torture with the amount of food I was force feeding them.

How?! How could they refuse my food? Do they hate me? Refusing food is like refusing my love and I will EXPLODE if I have to throw out perfectly good food.

There is nothing left for me anymore. After this brutal rejection, I have nothing left. I simply must die.

Oh, I spoke too soon. Here they come waddling into the kitchen to eat what I offered because they feel guilty…works every time. MUAHAHAHAHAHA

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