The other day on Twitter (@thetexashoss), I got a bee in my bonnet about leftovers, and people who won't have anything to do with them, and fired out the following nonsense:
I was brought up to believe you never really know a person until you eat leftovers with them.
Acquaintances might take you out for sushi, but true friends will share their leftovers.
You raise your kids on hard work and leftovers and they just might turn out OK.
I never throw out leftover cornbread. Well, I might if it gets a bit purple and fuzzy, but only maybe.
If a restaurant is too posh to give you a to-go box, then you shouldn't have been there in the first place.
I do have a confession: I shy away from leftover oatmeal that's been in the fridge for a week.
If you ain't ingenious enough to make Thanksgiving leftovers last for at least a week, then you just weren't raised right.
A political candidate who thumbs his or her nose at eating leftover lasagna can't possible have my best interests at heart.
A candidate who wouldn't save a half-eaten Subway sandwich for a midnight snack or tomorrow's breakfast is too shortsighted, in my humble opinion.
I want a president who looks at a leftover Sunday pot of chili and sees lunch for Monday, and "Hey, there's even enough for the VP."
My old grandpa would warn us, "A man who'll eat tonight's beans but shun tomorrow's refried beans will more'n likely steal your cattle."
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