I spoke once briefly about how when I was a kid we didn’t have much food or money, so we had to eat what we had. We ate a lot of spaghetti and chili, because we could make a bunch of it at a time and it was cheap. There were six of us, so we had to make it all stretch.
We even spent time at the Free Store waiting on food. We got all the great government stuff. Butter, cheese… those soup cans that had no label so you never knew what you had.
We learned that if we wanted to eat, we had to eat what we had. So we learned to like everything, or more so, tolerate everything. And NOTHING went to waste.
As I grew up I kept that mentality, that nothing should go to waste. Often I would stuff myself because I didn’t want to throw anything away. Sure I kept leftovers, because again, don’t throw anything away. And of course I had to eat it all so that it didn’t go bad. Because then I’d have to throw it away.
If I had friends over and we ordered pizza, I’d always eat the slices with the most crust, because the slices with the least crust were the more favorable options. I knew my friends wouldn’t eat the crusty ones, so I would. Can’t let it go to waste.
If there was ever any burnt food, like if I had cooked or whatever, that’s what I’d eat so that anyone else could have the good parts. And if it was just me, I’d still eat it cause I can’t throw it away.
This is my life. I’ve been doing it for 37 years. Nobody notices, because why would they? For the first time in my life, last year, I was making a sandwich and there were four pieces of bread left. Two of them were the ends. Usually I make a sandwich out of them, because Jen won’t eat them, and I’m not throwing them away. Well, this time I did. I made a sandwich out of the two good pieces and threw the ends away. I decided that I was going to have the good stuff for once. I’m allowed, dammit.
I threw those end pieces away, ate my sandwich, and then felt bad about those end pieces. Seriously. I dug them out of the garbage and threw them out to the birds.
It’s very rare if I throw anything away. I’ll toss something to the birds, of course, because that counts. Something is eating that food. It’s not going to waste.
This is why I’m such a large guy. I lived with my Grandmother, who loved to cook for an army even though it was just her and I, and I would get stuck with a ton of tasty leftovers. And I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I’d eat it all before the next day’s leftovers would come home. And that went on for years.
I know some people complain about people like me, but I can’t help it. Most likely none of us can. You’ll just have to deal with our eccentricities. And think about why it is YOU’RE so wasteful.