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My grandfather is a really really picky eater. At my family's Christmas Eve party, there were two different types of chicken. My wonderful, amazing, loveable (I swear) Grandfather proceeded to tell everyone, loudly, for at least ten minutes, that he WOULD NOT be eating one type of chicken, because he tasted it, and it had garlic in it. My grandfather isn't allergic to garlic, he just says that he hates it. Meanwhile, he was munching away at homemade Chex Mix. I swear there are clumps of garlic powder in that stuff. When I described the scene to her, my aunt told me that when people get old, it's okay for them to get a little eccentric.