Step-Daddy put me in the high chair for lunch, but when he brought strained carrots for me to eat I was not a happy camper. When I spit the first bite into my bib, he cuffed my hands behind the high chair and made me eat the entire container of carrots. I kept trying to spit it out, but he just scooped it up with the spoon and shoveled it into my mouth. Halfway through eating, he told me added laxatives to the carrots. No wonder they tasted worse than I remember!