To me or not to me...THAT is the question

It wasn't that long ago that everyone in the family considered me a mobile garbage disposal.  Everybody just knew that if there was something on their plate that, for whatever reason, they couldn't eat or just didn't want to eat, Dad would clean up.  Sometimes that was very convenient if the food item in question was something undesirable, especially since there was never any question whether or not it would be eaten by the above mentioned scavenger.  It didn't matter if it was the last half of a burger or the last bite of a chicken enchillata, there would be nothing wasted.  It has taken me a life time to realize that it doesn't help the starving children in Somalia or Ethiopia or any where else if I force myself to eat every single last bite on my plate or anyone else's. 

I grew up with stories of great deprivation suffered by my parents during the depression and WWII. Stories of  having nothing to eat to the point of starvation while living in the back woods of southern Kentucky. During the war my mother had to line her shoes with newpaper to keep her feet dry so she could wear them to school in the winter.  I admit that I've never faced those kind of hardships. I rode my bike to school in first grade but it wasn't even up hill; it was flat; both ways.

My point is this. Consider yourselves warned. I am officially abdicating my former position of family vulture.  I will no longer finish someone else's dinner even if it's only one bite. I will also never again dig the last bite of a perfectly grilled hamburger out of the garbage and eat it when no one is looking.  I will continue to try to adjust the amount of food placed on my plate so that even if I do eat it all I'll be able to walk without waddling afterwards. Plan on eating whatever is on your plate, even if its your mother that puts it there, because I will never again say the words,"Are you gonna eat that?" even if it's squash casserole or that chicken and pasta salad that has the grapes in it.

I am setting my sites a little higher; striving for a renewed level of personal dignity never before thought possible in this life time.  It may take years to re-create this new image of myself, but sooner or later people who know me best will look at me and not immediately  think "I wonder where he's been grazing."  So it is with the upmost sincerity that I ask you to wipe this tainted and humiliating image of me from your memories. Remember me as I'm trying to be, not as I was.

Note: This doesn't mean I can't share fries when they bring extras at Red Robin.
                                                  Yummmm