We eat by the serving size in this house.

             Last summer an old friend came over to watch a movie. When he got there he pulled his standard, “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day. Do you have anything?”

            Of course I had food in my house and of course I told him yes, but I was really not happy about sharing and I was thinking to myself, yes, I do have food…for me…you should  have brought your own.

 Before the meal plan anyone could eat anything at any time if they came over. Now I only buy certain foods and certain amounts. I only buy food for me and I only eat by the serving size. That way my food lasts a long time and I never have extras lying around.

            So at this point he’s looking in my fridge and he’s like, “Wow, you don’t have much in here. It’s been a while since you’ve been to the store, huh?” Then he was picking things out that he was going to eat and I nearly came unglued.

            “Um, you can’t have that…or that…or that.” I put everything back in the fridge and told him I would find him something or he was going to have to go to the store and buy his own food.

            He seemed a little hurt by my lack of sharing skills. I explained to him that all the food he was grabbing was scheduled to be eaten, by me, at a later date. I told him all about the meal plans, weight loss, planning of meals, calorie counting, and on and on and on. Then I found some leftovers that I hadn’t planned to eat for a few days. I looked at him and said, “You can eat this. It is 380 calories and it’s really good. I promise.” Then I managed to find some other things he could have as well.

            It was like everything I said fell on deaf ears though. Every time I took out a measuring cup he was like, “Oh I just want a little. Really, you don’t have to go through all this trouble. I just want a scoop.”

            I turned to him, holding a knife, which probably made me look insane and said, “Dammit, we eat by the serving size in this house! I don’t want leftovers and I don’t want to waste anything! Now if you want to eat, just shut up and use the damn measuring cup!”

            “Ok, ok, we’ll do it your way,” but when he said it he had that nervous look in his eyes like he wasn’t sure what I was going to do next. At first I felt bad for snapping at him, but then I realized that he came to my house, asked for my food, and then told me how to prepare it.

            There really wasn’t much conversation after that. I’m sure he was terrified of what I might do. Oh well. It’s just one of those changes that I have to accept and other people have to accept. I’m not going to have a lot of food lying around the house. My fridge always looks bare and so do my cupboards, but I have what I need for me, not anyone else. So the moral of this story is: If you want to eat at my house, you better say something before you come over or bring your own food!