I really don't care.

Yesterday Shadrup, Ruby and I were walking through Central Park. A horse drawn wagon passed. Ruby stared, pensive and quiet.
Mama, that looks heavy. Do you think the horse is happy?
I don't know. But the horse is definitely not free...The driver tells her when to go, how fast, when to stop, when to eat, what to eat...You know I would never ride in one of those, because I feel too badly for the horse. I don't want to support a business that exploits animals like that.
Oh. Mama?
Yes, lovey?
I really don't care.
You....you don't.... c..c..care?
That the horse is pulling that heavy wagon. Want to go for a ride in the wagon? It looks like fun. Maybe the horse won't mind.
So, no...we didn't go...but she is not forbidden if Shadrup or my parents want to take her!! I can't promote riding in these wagons, but I believe she should make these moral decisions (to ride or not to ride?) on her own--she is a developing critical thinker and I'm not interested in fruitlessly doing her thinking and decision making for her.
Along these lines, watching my own little perfect bundle-of-love offspring munching on cheese pizza and beef momos (remember? Tibetan dumplings) was not easy at first. But the satisfaction of seeing my daughter hungrily eat what she craves surprisingly and strongly overwhelms my lifelong militant dietary views. Do I hope she will come around to my way of thinking? Yes. But pushing my views, as opposed to sharing them, will surely backfire and turn her off..