Non-Maternal Instincts

Whose food is it anyway?

What would possess me to make a meal for my 10-month old? Oh yeah, the fact that he needs to eat (something about food, water, shelter, blah, blah, blah).

So then why is it that my I've-already-devoured-two-scoops-of-premium-dog-food chow hound ends up eating more of my delicately grilled bread with cheese than the young, growing boy for which it was intended?
This has become a bit of a game at my house. I slave over lunch (and breakfast and dinner, but who's counting), I cut it up all cute and tiny, I place it sweetly on my son's tray, I bless it with love, and he SMASHES it, SPITS it, FLINGS it, CHUCKS it, and ultimately DROPS every last morsel on the ground for the I-eat-my-own-poop dog to consume. Oh, the horror.
So not only am I spending hard-earned money on a fifty-pound back of wholesome, all natural dog morsels, but I'm serving hard time in solitary confinement my kitchen on the dang pooch's fifth and sixth course as well.
And they say kids will eat if they're hungry - Ha! Maybe if I left him in an empty cell giving him his meal on a tray through a slot in the door. But not if eating also means playing "catch the over-priced organic strawberries" with a boy's best friend.
Dear Lord, 
What's it going to take to make my son eat? Maybe dogs, like cows, should instinctually regurgitate their food and force it into the mouth of its young (and by its young, I mean my son). Oh, you find that disgusting? Geesh, how is it any different than when I found the two of them chewing on different ends of the same dog toy? 
Seriously, people, my son chews on dog toys. Judge me if you dare.