I Have to Share Food Equally with My Husband—If I Don’t, I End Up Hungry

Im not sureperhaps Im the only one with this odd dilemma. Lately, Ive found myself dividing food exactly in half with my husband. There just doesnt seem to be any other way. If I dont portion things right at the start, my husband will polish off my share, leaving me with absolutely nothingmeaning I end up hungry.

Let me try to untangle it. My husband and I have been married for three years, no children yet planned; weve still got time for that bit. We both have steady jobs and bring home fairly similar pay packets. When we first tied the knot, his peculiar little habit never caught my attention. I simply put it down to a man with a hearty appetiteno harm in that.

But soon enough I started to notice: most of the food wed buy or Id cookpoof, mostly gobbled up by my husband. Id get hardly a taste of what came from the shops or the oven. This saga carried on for a year.

Take roast chicken, for example. Id make one and end up with just a scrap for myself, when in fact Im quite partial to a juicy drumstick or a golden schnitzel. But no, it was always gnawing on a dry chicken breast or the odd wing for mehardly the stuff of dreams. The same was true for boxes of biscuits or chocolates. If I managed to have a single chocolate, perhaps two, Id be chuffed. For both my husband and me, a fair split. Except the creams inside seemed to vanish into his mouth without pause.

At first, Id gently hint to my husband: Youre not alone in this house, you know. I like chocolates and chicken, too. Hed laugh it off, saying, Your cooking is so delicious I never even notice Ive eaten it all. Dont be cross. I didnt know you wanted any. You shouldve said something.

I would never call myself offended, but it did sting a little. Things reached their peak one specific day: my birthday. The evening before, Id prepared salads and roasted our favourite chickena feast so I wouldnt be chained to the oven on my own special day, but could simply warm things up and enjoy a festive meal together.

My husband always gets home before me from work, and it never crossed my mind that hed eat everything in sight. But he did: every salad, whittled down to a single spoonful each, and only one lonely chicken leg remained for me.

I was just so hungry. Couldnt wait, he said, sounding sheepish.

Then came the cakes. I insisted we split them: half for me, half for him. That was the final straw; it was enough. Whatever spark of joy Id had on my way home fizzled out there and then.

Thats it, darling. Ive had it! Ive put up with this for ages and Im done. From now on, lets do things like this: we buy groceries, and split them down the middle. The chicken gets carved in twohalf for you, half for me. Sweets and biscuits the same: a packet each. Fruit and everything elsesame deal. You can eat your share in one go or nibble it over a week, as you please. Im just fed up with being hungry and surviving on what scraps you leave me, without ever being asked first. So either we agree to share everything equally, or, if you prefer, Ill do my own grocery shopping and you do yours.

My husband didnt argue; he agreed, plain and simple. Now I divvy up all the shoppinghalf for me, half for him. This way, nobody leaves the table empty.