What your significant other does with food and drink that annoys you?

My wife was addicted to Diet Mountain Dew. I tasted it once... ONCE! How do you drink that stuff?

CD
I don't drink pop unless there is booze in it. I don't like Mountain Dew at all, it wouldn't taste good with rum I don't think.
 
I don't drink pop unless there is booze in it. I don't like Mountain Dew at all, it wouldn't taste good with rum I don't think.

I've never tasted rum other than in rum ice cream (where it kicked my butt and sent me straight to sleep ;-); however, Mountain Dew is undrinkable. I would have to be stranded in the the desert somewhere and parched for about a year before I could choke it down. ;-)
 
When I was drinking pop, Mountain Dew was probably my favorite. That electric green looks like some kind of lab experiment gone oh, so right.

When I was a kid, we didn't really have toys (idle hands and all that), but one day, my dad brought me home a Mountain Dew store display to play with.

Now, back in the un-PC 1970's, Mountain Dew was marketed with a "hillbilly" theme, mountain dew being a slang term for moonshine, so the store display was a stereotypical mountain shack, made out of cardboard. It had toothless, bearded folks shooting feudin' rifles and playing fiddles, square-dancing, and blowing in a corn likker jug, all the stereotypes, and it was a pretty good size, as it was meant to sit out in the open, filled with cans/bottles of Mountain Dew, and shoppers could stick their heads in and grab some of that sweet, sticky nectar to take home.

I loved that shack. I set it up outside, inside, upstairs, down in the basement, and I used it like a little kid uses a clubhouse or little fort. I'd sit in there and read, mainly, or listen to a little transistor radio I had.

Then, come Winter and the first snow, my older brothers beat me up, tore it down, and used it to slide down the hillside with, which lasted all of about 30 minutes before it fell apart.
 
Of course not. Things like that, we were expected to sort out ourselves. :laugh:
It's the fact that they beat you up, not that they took your display. We weren't allowed to hit each other in my house. Only my parents were allowed to do that to us. I think I got maybe two spankings in my whole life and I was very young when that happened. I learned pretty quickly not to disobey.
 
My wife picks food off my plate, basically every time we go out to eat. She doesn't ask, but instead she says, "You don't mind, do you? You love me." And, then she helps herself. Sometimes, she'll get a bite of my food before I've even had a chance to try it. And, wacky as it sounds, she sometimes does this even if we order the same thing!

A friend of hers once accused me of intentionally ordering spicy food to keep her from doing this. I order spicy food because I want it, not for this reason, but this is an interesting idea to potentially ward her off. We've been married 25 years, so I'm used to it, and it doesn't bother me.

But, what's really funny is that she picks food off other people's plates, too. This used to really bother the kids when they were younger. But, I reminded them that THEY DIDN'T PAY FOR ANY OF IT, so they don't have territorial rights to their plates. The most she ever does is take a bite or eat a fry, and they've gotten used to it, though they roll their eyes when it happens.

She also used to do this when we'd eat out with friends. When I was first dating her, she'd just go ahead and take something from their plate without asking. Some would just sit there in stunned silence. Others would laugh and wonder what just happened. She stopped doing this after she took a sip out of a friend's cup, and the friend told her, "Um...I have mono." Soon, so did she. Now, she asks first!
 
It's the fact that they beat you up, not that they took your display.
Getting beaten up was the least of my issues. I've got little scars all over where I've been stabbed with scissors, shot with a pellet gun, stabbed in the foot with a screwdriver, you name it. They once tied me to a tricycle and pushed me down the long staircase in our first house.

Locked in closets, cupboards, once they tried to crack my head open by running the power seat in our old station wagon closed on top of my head.

Four older brothers...but my older sister was the worst. They were just rambunctious, but she was cruel for no reason other than being mad at the world. She rarely physically attacked me (though she did brain me with an old Native American ax head we found when we were clearing the land to build the house).

My parents would leave her in charge, and she's tell me elaborate stories about how there was a kid between me and her, but she murdered him, and she might just be inclined to do it again. We never had much money growing up, and I saved and saved and saved and bought a portable cassette player (I still remember, it cost $17 from Grant's department store, which was a solid fortune to me), and she asked to borrow it, and as soon as I handed it over, she smashed it to a million pieces on the ground and laughed. No reason, just cruel.

But, what's really funny is that she picks food off other people's plates, too.
OMG, I used to work with a woman who did this. She was just way too familiar with her coworkers that way. She'd come over to my desk to ask a question, and just start eating my fries.

Fries are sacrosanct to me. Even if she'd asked nicely, I would have said no. Even MrsTasty is not allowed any of my fries. Not one, so a coworker I didn't even care for that much...not happening.

She used to also do crap like if you hung your coat up, and one of the sleeves was kind of bunched up, she'd fix it, or if your collar wasn't folded quite right (meaning, on the shirt you're wearing), she'd just reach up and fix it. She did it to everyone.

She also made a habit of staring at all the guys' crotches. You know how a lot of women complain about men staring at their breasts while talking, as in, "Hey, my eyes are up here?" That was her and guys' crotches. The way the cubes were configured at work, our backs were to the open part, so if she came to talk to you, you had to turn around, and immediately, her eyes lowered, and suddenly, it was like she was having a conversation with Mr. Johnson.

She also like to flick people, like in the back of the ear or on the arm, like two little kids riding in a car will do.
 
But what's really interesting is that your kids knew it was not a proper thing to do before anyone ever telling them so. I am sure it stunned them.
 
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That's when we ate when I was a kid. Dad has always adhered to a precise schedule, and he walked through the door each weekday at 5PM on the dot, and Mom was always in the middle of cooking.

My sister and I ate at 5:00, while my parents had a drink and talked in the Living room. After we were done, we went to watch TV, and my parents had dinner. We did all eat Sunday dinner together.

Mom wonders why I don't come "home" more often.

CD
 
Getting beaten up was the least of my issues. I've got little scars all over where I've been stabbed with scissors, shot with a pellet gun, stabbed in the foot with a screwdriver, you name it. They once tied me to a tricycle and pushed me down the long staircase in our first house.

Locked in closets, cupboards, once they tried to crack my head open by running the power seat in our old station wagon closed on top of my head.

Four older brothers...but my older sister was the worst. They were just rambunctious, but she was cruel for no reason other than being mad at the world. She rarely physically attacked me (though she did brain me with an old Native American ax head we found when we were clearing the land to build the house).

My parents would leave her in charge, and she's tell me elaborate stories about how there was a kid between me and her, but she murdered him, and she might just be inclined to do it again. We never had much money growing up, and I saved and saved and saved and bought a portable cassette player (I still remember, it cost $17 from Grant's department store, which was a solid fortune to me), and she asked to borrow it, and as soon as I handed it over, she smashed it to a million pieces on the ground and laughed. No reason, just cruel.


OMG, I used to work with a woman who did this. She was just way too familiar with her coworkers that way. She'd come over to my desk to ask a question, and just start eating my fries.

Fries are sacrosanct to me. Even if she'd asked nicely, I would have said no. Even MrsTasty is not allowed any of my fries. Not one, so a coworker I didn't even care for that much...not happening.

She used to also do crap like if you hung your coat up, and one of the sleeves was kind of bunched up, she'd fix it, or if your collar wasn't folded quite right (meaning, on the shirt you're wearing), she'd just reach up and fix it. She did it to everyone.

She also made a habit of staring at all the guys' crotches. You know how a lot of women complain about men staring at their breasts while talking, as in, "Hey, my eyes are up here?" That was her and guys' crotches. The way the cubes were configured at work, our backs were to the open part, so if she came to talk to you, you had to turn around, and immediately, her eyes lowered, and suddenly, it was like she was having a conversation with Mr. Johnson.

She also like to flick people, like in the back of the ear or on the arm, like two little kids riding in a car will do.

I thought you were weird, but now I wonder why you aren't more weird. :ohmy:

As for food on other plates, my wife and I would often taste each others food at a good restaurant. She or I would ask, "Is that good?" and we would reply, "Want a taste?" We almost always shared desserts.

CD
 
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