Let me introduce you to a recurring phenomena in my house. Any time there is a jar of whole pickles, they are inhaled instantly. It's more of like a religion to my kids.
They like them about as much as this.
In fact, Andi came home a few years ago and exclaimed "These kids always smell like pickles"! Now don't get me wrong, I love pickles. I am even that weirdo that loves to drink pickle juice. Hell, I wish they sold it in cans in pop machines (just don't tell my blood pressure doctor or my wife). Perhaps I misspoke before when I said that they inhaled them. They inhale them all but the LAST one. Then this is the view in the refrigerator until I finally get sick of looking at it and put the poor thing out of it's misery.
I really do wonder how long that pickle would stay in there if I just let it go. Many times, there will be a 2nd jar of pickles opened while that poor little orphan pickle sits nearby in it's glass enclosure all by itself sadly watching all of the hubbub going on at the new jar.
Now, I have even noticed it carrying over to other types of food in the kitchen. The high schooler made cake balls the other day (I'm assuming it's the pastry world's answer to mountain oysters). After a few days, I noticed one lonely ball sitting there for 4 days. I finally took pity on it and threw it away. Here's the kicker. When I threw it away, it had a bite out of it. So someone only ate part of it and then couldn't bring themselves to finish it OR throw it away. I then went to grab some Pringles. I dumped the can into my hand and was met with this.
1 Goddamn Pringle. Now I am not a petite man. One cake ball and one Pringle is just enough food to piss me off. Perhaps I just haven't looked around enough, though. Maybe there is at least a piece of lunch meat and a slice of bread so I can make myself half a sandwich. Then I can get the jug out of the fridge and wash it all down with a tall, cool glass of . . .
3 GODDAMN DROPS OF MILK!