A short story as to why you should never trust what your family does.
When my wife was a child, she was helping her mother cook the Sunday lunch, a baked ham. Before her mother put the ham in the oven, she cut the end off, something she always did religiously. Innocently the my wife asked ‘Mum why do you always cut the end off?’ to which she replied ‘I don’t know. Your nana always did it. I’ll have to ask her’.
Next time they saw Nana, they asked her why she cut the end of the ham, to which the old lady replied, ‘I don’t know, mam used to do it’. Unfortunately she’d died some years previously, however her sister survived, someone they saw once a year. Duly, at their annual meeting, they asked the family matriarch ‘Do you know why, mam/nana/grandnana cut the end of the ham off?’
‘Well dear’ came the reply ‘she only had a small pan and the ham never fitted’.
So there you go. Moral of the story - don’t believe your family, or your children will go hungry.