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.