Imagine you are seven. Your parents take you to a German Restraunt in town that serves authentic food - meaning no PB&J or Grilled Cheese sandwiches on the menu. So you order "Snitzel with noodles" until your mom explains that is sausage -- (Yuck...) and settle for the other thing that sounds "normal" on the kids menu ("It's the German Mac-N-Cheese" the server explains.)
Now imagine you are seven and you are type 1 diabetic. While you wait for your food, your dad draws up your insulin at the table. Your mom gives you the shot - which hurts, but you don't want to complain because it is at a restraunt and your mom will get mad. They bring salads first (which you hate and are not eating) and you have to wait forever to get your food. You drink a glass of apple juice to tide you over, and your parents argue over how many carbs are in the small slices of bread that were brought with the cheese fondue. They tell you you can have 5 pieces for 10 carbs.
Then you get your food. It looks like worms. It tastes like worms. Worms are disgusting. You refuse to eat it. Your mom butters a hard sourdough roll and orders another juice. Your parents are still counting the carbs and dissagreeing.
Not much of a dinner. Then the server brings the dessert tray. It has the most delicious looking desserts you've ever seen. Three layer chocolate cake, rasberry cheese cake, brownies and whip cream, mounds of sweet desserts that are waiting to be devoured.
Imagine you could only eat 70g of carbs for dinner and you used them up with apple juice and stale bread.