I'd Rather Starve Than Eat Off My Kid's Plate

I’d do just about anything for my toddler.

After all, I gave birth to him, fed him from my breast and have been covered in all the poop, snot and vomit he is capable of producing. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. Even with all the love in my heart for this sweet child, you will never catch me eating off his plate.

Ever.

But my husband does.

Often.

I don’t care how cute my BooBoo is, when he’s done smashing, spitting picking at his plate, what’s left looks nothing like what I served. The food is smashed, strangely soggy, molded into unidentifiable shapes and sometimes, I swear — even a different color. How does that even happen? Grody.

My husband thinks nothing of it; food is food. He claims it’s a sin to waste food; I’m pretty sure it’s a sin to eat food looking like that.

So I’m totally grossed out by my husband right now and I’m pretty sure I’ll never make out with him again. Maybe next time I clean out the backseat of my car I’ll offer him the old string cheese left behind. After all, it’s a sin to waste food.

Do you eat off your kid’s plate?

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