Waste Not, Want Not

I have recently become my grandmother. Today at lunch, I opened the freezer in the breakroom and found that half the contents were mine from lunches I could never finish and that I didn't have the heart to throw away. I used to wonder why my grandmother saved everything. If there were only a few peas left in the bowl, she'd find a teeny Tupperware container for them to go in. Her refrigerator is chock full of little bits of leftover food or drinks no one could finish. That was one of her pet peeves with us as children. She'd get onto us for filling a glass with more than we could drink; we were never to waste anything. I suppose growing up as one of eleven children teaches you to cherish what you have and not waste a bit of it. If the family was lucky enough to have fried chicken for Sunday dinner, the children were lucky if they got a neck or the back, especially if the preacher came over.

My co-workers may laugh, and to admit, it is pretty funny. But I'll keep saving all the food that I can't eat even if I will never eat it again. I don't mind being like Granny Mavis at all.