Finally, Cassy belted out that famous line: “Dad, how could you do this to me?” John and I covered our mouths and looked away in hysterics. Cassy actually believed what she was saying had merit. The pain and frustration she felt about dinner that night was the same pain and frustration you and I feel when we don’t get that job we want, the car we want or whatever. [John] could’ve thrown the dinner out and cooked up some chicken nuggets and fries. But let’s be honest, kids whose parents do this for them end up as evil dictators in small countries. Giving Cassy what she wanted rather than what she needed should not be confused with good parenting. If God was withholding something I wanted, it meant I could trust him rather than mimic Cassy’s cry.