Maybe I’m insensitive, but I don’t have any problem eating gingerbread men. When the toddler calls them “Gingerbread Babies” and gets upset when their arms and legs get bitten off, I suppose I can empathize a bit … but seriously. They’re cookies! Even if you’ve helped make, roll, and cut out the aforementioned shaped biscuits, I don’t quite get the emotional attachment. Ah well, bad daddy.