When I was living in my first apartment, I had a roommate, Karen.
We shared the onset of adult responsibilities, including the grocery bill. Whenever I did the grocery shopping, I could hear Karen’s voice when I reached for something on the shelf: “Don’t buy that! It’s too expensive!” Karen’s wasn’t the only voice I heard. I also heard my mother’s voice. She said: “Don’t buy that, it’s too fattening!” With those two voices guiding me, I would avoid the imported cheese section—taboo for both reasons—and generally come home with salad and chicken breasts for dinner. Continue reading