Good Food

So I come downstairs feeling not peachy perfect and sit down at the table where my family are having a positively gormet lunch. My tender nostrils at this delicate stage of my illness are assualted with blue cheese and suchlike and it continues until I meekly ask for heinz spaghetti on toast. This prompted a thought, why do our (or maybe just my) parents try to bring me up on wonderful expensive tasteful food when we want rubbish? It would be easier to feed me crap, I want to eat crap and it would be cheaper for me to eat crap. I am sixteen now, I am responsible for my own malnutrition so let me eat out of cans please!