Disgusted by Dills

I really like pickles. When I was a kid, my mom used to get them for me.  Or maybe they were for someone else or for everyone, I don't know.  The point is we often had pickles in the fridge, and I really enjoyed them.  Meghan has told me in the past that she really wants to like them, as they seem so crunchy and delicious and refreshing, but she just doesn't like the taste.  But since we've been married, we always have pickles in the fridge, because I love them.  Vlasic Kosher Dill Wholes, to be specific.  None of those stupid sweet pickles or baby pickles, that's for sure.  Anyway, I have given them to Joshua before, and he's a big fan, which makes me happy.  Clara is alright with them.  She'll eat them, but she's not excited about them.  And then there's Hannah.  For the kids' post-nap, pre-dinner snack today, I decided we should have pickles.  Joshua wolfed his down, Clara slowly and absent-mindedly munched on hers, but Hannah wondered what sort of sick joke was being played on her.  As you can see here with her furrowed brow and icy stare, her mindset was focused mostly on suspicion and contempt.  I'll try again at some point, and hopefully she grows to like them, but probably she will just continue to plot her revenge against me.