I just can't imagine the intestinal fortitude and patience it takes to be a parent and not eat your young.
One time when the family was on a weeklong trip, we were at a restaurant in Ticonderoga, New York. My brothers and I (ages around 11, 8, and 4) were goofing around with the dinner rolls, slicing them almost in 1/2 and then "talking" with them at each other. We weren't being loud or "bad", but we didn't stop it when told to (and probably numerous times). I guess the trip had taken its toll on Mom at that point and was probably 2" away from a total meltdown. She simply grabbed her pocketbook, got up from the table, and walked out of the restaurant (of course Dad was still there). I can still remember how shocked we were that she did that. "She just LEFT US!!!" Dad said the looks on our faces were priceless: open-jawed and totally speechless.
Years and years later my older brother would love to grab a roll and do the same thing at Mom...just to remind her of what "dahhylings" we all were as children!
