My mother, bless her perverse little soul, walks up to me and says, "Do you want me to get you some food from upstairs?"
I salivate, crawl forward whining, and otherwise make a pathetic display of hunger and tragedy. Okay, I said "Yeah, that'd be great."
She comes back downstairs with three slightly soggy crackers.
Most mammals feed their young. I guess that stops after age 18 :)