A true story from the Cook household:
The boy was eating his tuna casserole. He loved how it tasted. He was filling his mouth so full that it hurt to swallow. But it was worth it.
Suddenly a thought came into his head.
“Mommy, is this chicken?”
“No,” his mother said.
He sighed with relief and started filling his mouth again.
“It’s tuna,” his mother continued.
“Fhisofiadfs!” he said. Which, if his mouth had been empty, would have sounded like, “Fish?!”
He looked down at the plate, covered in bits of animal corpse, and frowned. “These fish had to die so I could eat them…”
He looked up at his mother. She shrugged. He looked back at the fish.
“Fish,” he said. “I’m so sorry that I’m eating you. But I’m starving. You can go in my belly with the noodles and then you can play together.”
And he continued eating, a little more sober and mindful than before.
“Ha!” his sister cackled, pointing her finger. “You’re talking to dead chicken!”