The Bite Thief

Considering today’s pop culture climate, one might assume that this post is going to be about vampires, sparkly or otherwise.  However, I assure you that it is not.

I have become one of my own worst pet peeves – the bite thief; the person that steals exactly three of your hot, golden, delicious french fries while you internally seethe and think “Why don’t you just order your own?!”

But I don’t want my own – I’d rather steal yours! Yup, that’s me.  Ordering a gigantic plate of fries would be far too much temptation for me, or a whole slice of cheesecake, etc.  So instead, I’ll just sneakily dig my fork into yours so I can have a bite of “pointy” food. (There’s some great Weight Watchers lingo for you, by the way.)

While my less-than-stealthy attempts are sometimes met with outright annoyance or a faux-smile plastered over a grimace, there are those who offer to share: the willing victims.

My family is usually more than happy to share their higher-calorie treats with me.  I think they think that I live as deprived a life as a cloistered nun, so much that I’m often tempted to take pictures of me devouring a handful of Reese’s Pieces, print them on neon-colored paper and leave them on their windshields as proof. 

I’m guessing this is what motivates them to constantly offer me a bite of their food when we go out to lunch.  And as long as it’s just for a bite, I’m okay with that.

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