The leftover dilemma

          Leftovers are a controversial topic. Mankind can be divided, relatively easily, into two sects: those who eat their leftovers and those who don't. For the most part, these distinct individuals lead relatively peaceful lives together, with the ideal situation being the union of a leftover eater and a non-leftover believer living together harmoniously under one roof in a routine that means no food is wasted, and there are no arguments about who gets to eat what. But what happens when there are two left-over coveters sharing a living space? That, my friends, is a tricky issue, and one that I have dealt with first-hand.
          It needs to be mentioned that there are also two distinct kinds of leftovers, the first being the excess from whatever was whipped up for dinner the night before. This type of leftover is relatively easy to deal with because it was usually from a communal dinner, so it's fair game and inherently there to be shared. But that second kind of leftover -- the remnants of a meal ordered out --, that's where things get particularly sticky, because those leftovers are symbolic of a meal that was specifically selected and served to one individual, and that can be a difficult concept once the take-out carton passes that line of demarcation: the refrigerator door. The problem in this instance is that there are widely differing opinions about what happens to the ownership of that container of leftovers the next day. Some say that all rights carry over, that the one who ordered it maintains all claims to eat it, and whenever and wherever they want to do so; there is no 24 hour rule, the leftovers remain in the custody of the individual who brought them home. But then there is that other train of thought, the one that states, unwaveringly, that you snooze, you lose. Unfortunately, that is the case in my relationship: I believe that the leftovers belong to the one who brought them home, but I have devoted myself to an individual who believes, without fail, that once the take-out carton has hit the refrigerator shelf, it's fair game. I'm a loving, caring, and open to sharing kind of person, but the leftover dilemma is a deal-breaker, and though I'm not proud of it, that's simply how I feel. So the only solution to this conundrum, it seems, and really the only way to maintain such a relationship, is as follows: share your meal openly at the restaurant, and leave dinner empty handed but with a happily full stomach.

And in the spirit of loving and sharing, Saturday's leftovers turned into a real treat tonight: enough perky salad greens and lobster meat to make hearty lobster salad for three (Mom, Dad, and me).