The following letter appeared in "Dear Abby" in the Cleveland Plain Dealer on 12/2/09. Miss Van Buren, however, gave substandard advice that Miss O'Brien has magnanimously offered to correct.Dear Abby: Is it rude to label one's leftover food when staying with relatives? My husband, daughter and I visit his family often. When we go out to eat and bring leftovers back to the house, we usually label them if we want to eat them later. It has never seemed out of the ordinary to me. I was raised that way. My mother always said that if I didn't want something eaten by one of my siblings, than I should label it. Recently, my husband's sister (who is 16) asked if she could eat the rest of some pizza we had bought the night before. I politely responded that I planned to have it for lunch. She remarked that she thinks it is funny that we are so protective of our food. It got me thinking--is our behavior odd?
--Taken Aback in Washington
Dear Taken: Now let me get this straight: you, your husband and your snot-nosed kid stay with your in-laws "often;" and as thanks for tolerating your wet towels, stinky feet on the couch, coffee slurping and god-knows-what else, you label your food. Of course, that's only "if we want to eat them later." I guess some leftovers are fair game. No reason to give up your label love in that case, Miss America. Just mark the second rate slop like this: The leftovers contained herein are shitty and we're not going to eat them. Hence please enjoy the true meaning of the words "Doggy Bag" and feel free to enjoy our over-chewed dregs.
I suppose if you had some weird food nut allergy gluten-free dietary health crap going on, there might be an exception, but withholding a lousy piece of leftover pizza from a 16-year-old kid doesn't get it, shitbag.
Is your behavior odd?
Odd doesn't even come close. You are an asshole--an industrial strength asshole. Your assholiness is so grand that other assholes can only collapse in your presence and weep at your feet. Your agonizing proportions defy existing asshole categories. You are singular, unparalleled and rare. I dub you **Wonder Asshole.**
Here's a Code Orange News Alert: your in-laws start snickering and gossiping about how you put your name on your pasta salad containers and half empty Cokes days before you arrive and continue for weeks after you leave. They roll their eyes over what an insufferable tightwad you are and how unfortunate it is that you married into the family. What your in-laws ought to do is hand you your miserable leftover pizza crusts along with directions to the nearest motel and show you the door.
Perhaps someone will recognize this situation (because your in-laws undoubtedly share the hilarity of your antics with everyone they know) and will forward this post to them. Although these are clearly gracious and tolerant people, I hope they have a good laugh and consider preparing the house for your next visit with a few labels of their own:
Not for use and/or consumption by Wonder Asshole.
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