I sip her fake tea.
I munch on her turkey pot pie. I gladly eat the cookies she bakes. I taste nibbles off of spoons and forks.
I appropriately say "Oooh, that's yummy" or "What great tea you've made".
She comes up to me and offers me tiny, nonexistent morsels of food, pinched between her forefinger and thumb, and I gobble them down.
When she ran across the basement today with her hand out in front of her I was prepared to thank her for yet another wonderful treat. I reached out my hand and she smeared a very large, very sticky, very nasty booger on my finger.
And then she sat there waiting for my compliments to the chef. And she giggled uncontrollable
And I vomited in my mouth a bit.