Food. What do you do with left-over food? Do you have 700 plastic storage containers of varying sizes in a cupboard somewhere? With all their lids all over the place…. and every time you locate the appropriate sized storage container – round or rectangular – I don’t mind – you then spend 15 minutes looking for it’s lid mate.
Yep, thought so.
So, you the keep food left-overs. If, at the end of your evening meal, you have two tablespoons of mash left, please, please don’t scoop them out carefully, and pop them in one of the afore-mentioned plastic storage containers… having wasted at least 20 minutes locating the 2-tablespoons-of-mash-sized-container and it’s so-called “airtight” lid… and then pop in in the fridge… which is already stacked to the rafters (Ok it’s a turn of phrase, I know fridges don’t have rafters) – with appropriately-sized plastic storage containers full of last weeks two scoops of something or other.
Just throw it away. Because if you don’t, then two weeks later, you will discover it, amongst the shipping-container like arrangement of plastic storage containers in your fridge and you will then throw it away.
You will also have to wash the plastic storage container and it’s lid friend… and then put them away in the cupboard, the contents of which might at any moment give way and crush you under 700 plastic storage containers and their bloody buggering lids.
THROW IT AWAY.
What???? I hear you scream… throw away food ????
Yes, I know… mine did as well.
Just because your Mother always told you that there were “children starving in Biafra”… does not mean that you have to hold onto that forever. I mean, if it’s really that bad, then seek counseling.
I was always really confused that as a child, that I HAD to eat all my greens, because there were “children starving in Biafra”… I simply didn’t understand why I was being given this information. I could not make a mental connection between the two things.
I mean, for starters, at anything under ten years old, one’s ability to feel compassion for the “children in Biafra” is minimal to say the least. Also I hadn’t the slightest idea where Biafra was… I was raised in the south of England, so for all I knew it might have been in the North… somewhere near, say, Newcastle.
I think for a while, I actually believed that if I didn’t eat all the food on my plate, then my Mother would take the bits that I didn’t eat, put them in an envelope (I was blissfully unaware of the existence of plastic storage containers then), and send it to the “children in Biafra”.
And I thought…. Well, that’s not very nice for them is it… getting my wilted greens and bits of meat or fish in a soggy envelope. I didn’t see that as “charity” at all. I mean, surely they’d prefer a nice new Cindy Doll or an Action Man, to some mucky old food… which I myself was not prepared to eat… even under the threat of the deaths of “children in Biafra”.
So… it’s time to let go… repeat after me, “I release you, I release you, I release you”. And breathe.
By all means do all you can to help the children who are starving… NOW… in other parts of Africa and the wider world… by giving money to relevant charities…
but throw away the two scoops of mash… OK… your life will be easier.