I suppose I wasn't much of a problem when I was little. I tended to like almost everything, save for lobster.
I had the displeasure of seeing a little princess in action. I also had the nasty feeling that the little bitch was picking up on the big bitch on wheels moo. (Moo wasn't present.)
I was at a homebrew shop, yep, I'm female and I make beer. Something that would have been virtually impossible with a loaf. Some poor schmuck who, at the end of it, looked like he wanted to throttle little princess, was being berated by this litte shit who was DEMANDING to leave. I do not remember exactly how the loaf phrased it, but it was in the imperious tones of a little bitch on wheels in training. Schmuck looked sad because, I guess, the moo he's married to just regards him as a wallet.
story #2
Some years back, when I was still married, I had a Thanksgiving dinner. My (ex) husbands son was there, along with his bastard (literally) son from a previous shack-up situation. I guess this kid was used to being the little shadow where he came from. No matter where I turned in the kitchen, I almost tripped over him because he was always underfoot. I tried to look out as much as I could but, when I took the 18 lb turkey out of the oven and turned to put it on the counter, damned if I almost didn't spill it on the brat. I asked, politely (I thought) if he would go into the living room and play with dad or grandad (my ex) as I didn't want him to get hurt.
Now, to make matters worse, I had seriously mis-calculated the amounts of shellie beans and mashed potatoes. There was enough for a nice portion for each of us, but no more. There was plenty of stuffing, turkey, and some other food I had also cooked.
Apparently, the loaf was having a private hissy fit, put off by being asked to wait in the living room, so he tried to pull the picky eater stunt. He didn't want ANYTHING at all, trying, in his shitty little way, to punish everyone. Frankly, my little dickhead, I don't give a damn...While my ex starts the restaurant routine "would you like a hot dog? hamburger?" (of course, you know who'd be cooking the damn shit), I put together a full plate of thanksgiving dinner, using my portions of the afore-mentioned short vegies and taters and pop this in the microwave. The freakin loaf waits until everyone sits down and then blatts 'I want a plate', looks in my direction smugly. I think the shit knew food was short and was expecting a little drama when there would be NOTHING FOR THE POOR UNDERFED ORPHAN.. I go to the microwave, take out the plate, and shove it in front of him. Should have seen the little.... face when he realized he wasn't going to be able to engineer a crisis. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA don't mess with a pro.