DAVE: Hiding the Salsa

I hide the salsa way back behind the carton of eggs and sticks of butter. Yeah, I’m a grown man who hides his food. Who am I hiding food from? A ravenous granddaughter? A calorie consuming teenager? No, Sandy and I are empty nesters. Is she snack stealing? No, it’s our grown son. After four years in the service (US Army), heeeeeee’s back. Temporarily living at home until he finds his own place.

Even more elaborate than hiding my favorite foods is buying decoy foods that throw perspective snack hunters off the trail. Specifically, decoy cookies. You know the ones, the inexpensive store brand cookies. They’re not nearly as tasty as the gourmet treats I keep hidden in the back of cupboards—out of sight, out of mouth. All this trickery is recent (and hopefully temporary) as our 23-year-old hunter, gatherer, eater is settling back into civilian life. Apparently eating all my food is standard protocol.

Our son eating our supplies is nothing new—it’s just been four years since this eating machine foraged our supplies.

One new method of eating has its unique merit. My son will never finish anything that he sets his sights on. If a bunch of bananas are left innocently lounging in a fruit bowl, one by one they will disappear (sometimes over a period of hours) until only one is left. And that one banana will not be eaten. It will rot before it is eaten by him. I call this “The Code.” I’ve seen it with peanut butter, loaves of bread, jugs of milk, jars of salsa and boxes of crackers. Eat all but the last portion.

It’s not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things. We’re happy to have him home. Hopefully he will find his own place soon. Love ya, son.