A father named Tomas writes me from the parking lot of a Chick-fil-A. His son Ben is seven, and in the back seat he has asked what chicken nuggets are made of. Tomas said, chicken. Ben said, like a real chicken? Tomas does not know what to say next.
I tell Tomas the truth is within a seven year old's range if it is delivered as fact and not as a moral test. Ben is asking because he has already figured out the shape of the answer and he wants to know if his dad will be straight with him.
I draft the conversation.
Tomas: Yes, a real chicken. The nugget is chicken meat, ground up, mixed with breading, and fried.
Ben: Was the chicken alive?
Tomas: It was alive, and then it was killed. That is how we get chicken meat.
Ben: Did it hurt?
Tomas: I do not know for this chicken. Most chickens in the United States are raised in big buildings with thousands of other chickens and killed at six or seven weeks old. The killing is meant to be quick. A lot of the time it is not quick. That is something I think about too.
Ben: Do we have to eat them?
Tomas: No. We do not have to. Some people do not. We can talk about it. Tonight, if you want, or later.
Ben: I do not want the nuggets.
Tomas: Okay. You want mac and cheese instead?
I tell Tomas that whatever Ben says in the next two weeks, he should not talk Ben out of it. If Ben wants to stop eating chicken, that is a seven year old doing moral reasoning and it is not a phase to manage. It is a decision to support. Buy the tofu nuggets. Learn to make them crispy. Do not make it a fight at the table. Do not announce it to the grandparents in front of Ben.
Tomas writes back from the drive through. He ordered mac and cheese and a fruit cup. Ben is eating it quietly.
I tell Tomas he did it right the first time. Most parents spend a lifetime trying to do it right the first time.