I hate cooking for my family. Don't get me wrong -- I love to cook, I just hate cooking for my family.
DD is vegetarian, and has been for six years. It's not a fad for her; it's a way of life. DS17 is a devout carnivore. On the day he found out his ds wasn't going to eat anything related to Babe anymore, he said "she's not eating that pork chop? Give it to me." He doesn't care if a vegetable ever passes his lips, just give him a hunka man-meat (see archived posts). DS12, God bless him, will eat almost anything you put in front of him.
And the dh never stops eating. He's eating an apple next to me, right now.
And they hide food from each other. Fearful that, OMG maybe someone will eat all the Poptarts/cupcakes/peanut butter crackers before they get to it, they hide food all over the place. It's not at all unusual for me to open dh's sock drawer and find Twinkies or candy. It's actually more unusual that I don't find any food there.
So today, when I was at the store, I decided to buy a little treat: some onion rings, for our cheeseburger dinner tonight. DD immediately became concerned that the ds17, who has been sick and thus, not eating, was going to eat dinner tonight and OMG maybe we wouldn't have enough onion rings to go around. This set the mother into a hissy fit over how much she hates to cook for the family.
I think they understand it now. And maybe the neighbors too.