I feel like an asshole for using a borderline disappointed tone with my daughter whenever she resorts to nibbling my mouth drooling meal creations again. Fine, every dish I make isn’t worthy of lock jaw love. But this morning I made a creamy, American Cheese Omelet cut up in decent size bites, which her younger brothers inhaled whole fuss free no problem. So, what’s my daughter’s problem exactly? Eggs aren’t murder. It’s a familiar filling in her mouth. She doesn’t have to scramble her brain to discern whether it’s runny goo or mama’s lentil salad, that’s easy to poo, poo. No, my daughter is nothing more than a good nibbler, who freezes at the sight of swallowing anything bigger than a salmon roe egg. Losing all patience for her nibble be good excuses this morning, I cut off a big chunk of cheesy Omelet for her to bite into before camp and she says, “How do you expect me to fit such a big bite into my mouth?” I say, “How do you think Titiana Tightchoochie wins a Lifetime AVN Award for best Online Oral Presentations? Practice darling, practice.” Daughter says, “What are the AVN awards?” I say, “Charlie Sheen’s ace in the hole, if he needed a date for the BAFTA awards after making a remake of The English Patient starring Rubert Everett as full-blown Aids. Nibble Be Good, Challah. Thank you very much.