Dad used to hide the sugar in his bedroom behind locked door. My brother would pile mounds of the white, granulated stuff on the normally non-sugary-tasting cereals we were allowed to have like Kix and Cheerios to make up for the fact that he was no longer allowed the deathly sweet varieties like Trix and Lucky Charms, breakfast cereals from the pre-married-to-my-mom era. As punishment for his overindulgence, we were not allowed unchaperoned access to the sugar.
I wonder how being deprived of food in childhood may affect one later in life. Of course, I wouldn't say that my bro was deprived, but he certainly wanted something that he was not allowed to have and it showed up in his making a ski resort scene out of his Wheaties before devouring at least a bowl full in the afternoon after we came home from school.
Right now there are 6 loaves of bread in various states of being eaten on our kitchen counter. There are 7 bars of chocolate, some untouched and some partially eaten, in our pantry. When I look into the fridge I shudder to think about how many partially eaten and whole wedges of cheese there are in there. Who the fuck was starved as a child?
In approximately 3 days the house guests will go home. The bread will disappear down to 1 loaf, if any at all. The chocolate will be eaten, or, if it's white chocolate, thrown away because white chocolate is rubbish. The cheese, well, we'll manage to get through it, I should think. If not, then in the bin it goes!
Aside from the almost constant smell of burnt animal flesh (I eat meat), dirty dishes strewn about the kitchen counter until I had to put my foot down (I don't leave the house guests my shit to clean up and I expect that they respond in kind), and multiples of different food stuffs, things around the house are mostly fine. However, I do find it perplexing how house guests live away from home as if they were still at home.
At home, one certainly can leave the door open when peeing, leave the kitchen a mess after making dinner, drop all of one's shit from the day anywhere in the living room and it would not be a big deal (unless one is living with a neat freak, I guess). I guess I just think that when one isn't at home, then one should be capable of adapting to other folks' rules. If one can't do that, then stay the eff home. Well, at least, don't come to my house.
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