When you have four healthy kids that you’ve raised to adulthood. You spawned in an abandoned megacity that has a million pies lying around and endless berries. You’ve given half the kids backpacks. And then when you die at a ripe old age you find out all three of your sons starved to death, while your eldest granddaughter is on a quest to tame wolves…
Edit:
It’s okay kids. Granny still love ya.