The other morning Chana (6) asked for a leftover meatball for breakfast. As I was getting it ready, she starting waxing philosophic about eating animals. "I wish we didn't have to eat animals, Daddy. It's mean."
"Well," I said, "you don't have to if you don't want to, but we'll have to make sure you get all of your nutrition elsewhere."
"But it's sad, Daddy. You have to kill them. It's not nice."
"Do you still want to eat a meatball, Chana?"