How Can You Have Any Pudding if You Don't Eat Your Meat?

The night before Obama’s press conference, there was a misunderstanding with my seven-year-old daughter ... over her pudding ... As I watched her howling and bawling on the floor, pretty much begging the Lord to take her life, I realised I was watching someone who had been subjected to a great injustice that they were powerless to do anything about, that her tears were those of impotent rage. [More]

So Obama was basically having a temper tantrum?

Dude, by the time my kids were seven, they knew a lot better than to pitch a fit in front of me, especially over something inexcusably trivial like that. Hell, they'd even been to the range with me many times by then.

You must be a really incompetent father and your daughter must sense and exploit  that. And this makes me think you're not even a formed adult:

Yes, you’d cry, wouldn’t you? Like a seven-year-old who has been betrayed, you’d want to lie down on the floor and weep hot tears too.

No, that's not how men behave, not that I expect you to grok that, inconsequential wanker. Nor would they do this, although it probably explains much: