Roast Beast

E had been asking me to make roast beef for several weeks now. But, she doesn't really like roast beef, and she never really has. She was asking for it anyway. So, finally, yesterday I went and bought a roast and cooked it all day in the crockpot. When E woke up from her nap, I said:
Guess what we're having for dinner today?
E: What?
Me: Roast beef! (Big grin, see me please the child? Good mother I am!)
E: (Flings herself on the floor, screaming) I don't LIKE roast beef! I won't eat it! You can't make me!
Me: Fine. You don't have to eat it, but that's what we're having for dinner. And also, you're being mean.
E: Ahhhhrahhhhblahhhhwahhhhh!

At dinner she eats her mashed potatoes and her corn but won't touch the roast beef because, "I don't LIKE roast beef, Mama." (Subcontext: you stupid fucking whore why did you put this shit on my plate like I'm supposed to eat this crap?)

Later we take her over to her great grandmother's house.
E: I'm sooooo hungry, Grandma!
GG: You are? Didn't you have dinner?
E: I had roast beef but I didn't eat it because it was so so yucky and Mama made it bad.
GG: Oooooh. Do you want some ice cream?

E proceeds to eat two bowls of ice cream. Goddamn it.