The reason I don't answer...

...questions like this bunch over at Sharyn's

1. were you a picky eater as a child?
2. did you eat dinner nightly as a family (with every member at the table)?
3. did your parents ask you what you wanted for dinner? or did they tell you what you were having?
4. if the former, did they have different food themselves?
5. if the latter, and you detested it, what happened?
6. if you have kids now, how do you manage dinner?
7. did one or the other of your parents cook more than the other?
8. did you go to restaurants a lot? or not at all?
9. are you a picky eater now?

...is that I sit and look at them and watch my whole autobiography ravelling into place around them. Some people seem to be very efficient, yupping and nupping and don't-make-me-laughing through them. I know that if I start, I'll be there for an hour, explaining and over-revealing and embarrassing every family member in sight, including myself. Best just to answer in my head, and move on.

Also, Sharyn's comments section won't let me in. But she reads this one occasionally, so she'll see (Hi, Sharyn!).