When I was about five my mom fixed meatloaf for dinner. I had never seen it before and I didn't like the looks of it! I refused to eat it. Dad was from the "old school;" kids eat what they are served or they eat nuthin'! So no dinner that night. Breakfast the next morning... cold meatloaf on my plate. Didn't eat it. Nope.
Most of this is the family "lore" because I don't remember things from when I was five much. But apparently this "serve the meatloaf till she eats it" thing went on for a while. Mom says she went to pick me up from the babysitter and asked if I had eaten any lunch and the sitter said: "Well she would only eat a half a sandwich because she said she's not supposed to eat anything until she eats her meatloaf."
After a couple of days, mom broke down and gave me a hotdog. Some smart kid I was huh? Willing to eat the things a hotdog is made of but not good ground beef with some onions and peppers in it??? Anyway, when mom gave in, as the family lore goes, I ran around the house waving my little five year old arms in the air saying: "I wonned the war! I wonned the war!"
Forty two years later the meatloaf kid lives on. I won't go into the details, but passive resistance prevailed in a workplace situation. Finally the person with the opposing point of view gave up. Kind of felt like running around the office waving my arms in the air saying: "I wonned the war!"