Growing up, my family didn't let us eat separate things. We ate what the family was eating, or not. There were usually a couple parts to the meal, so if I hated what was being served, I could have veggies and maybe potatoes or something. And guess what, my brother and I are some very un-picky eaters.
I just find this interesting...
"Mom and Dad are eating roast beef, mashed potatoes, and green beans, but 11-year-old Che is eating a hot dog and french fries and 6-year-old Fidel is eating a grilled cheese sandwich and the only brand of potato chips he will deign to consume.
This may look like democracy, but as we painfully discovered, it is the tyranny of the Children's Republic. Furthermore, someone ought to tell the parents in question that a family shares the same food at family meals. That is one of the things that makes them a family.
"But John," the guilty protest, "my child doesn't like roast beef and green beans!"
That, my dear, is because you serve him a hot dog instead. I'll bet there are no children in Darfur who suffer from roast beef anorexia."