The Full Fridge Dilemma.

I made two portions of dinner tonight, one to have and one to save. (Don’t ask what it was. It was something I invented myself because I’m as intolerant of recipes as I am of TV cookery shows.) I ladled one portion onto my plate and the other into a plastic pot with a lid, and then made to put the pot into the fridge. It was a struggle because the fridge was almost completely stocked already. Now it’s bursting at the seams.

I don’t remember the last time that happened; in fact I suspect it never has. I’ve never been the sort to have a fully stocked fridge because I’ve never been the sort to have a fully stocked pocket. Suddenly I felt guilty because I thought of all those people struggling to feed their children. What right have I to a fully stocked fridge when there are children not being properly fed? It seemed an utterly reprehensible position to be in.

I asked myself the question: ‘Should I feel guilty?’ and the answer came back: ‘No, but you should feel privileged.’ It came as a minor shock to realise that I don’t know how to feel privileged. That’s the sad bit.

(It helps a little to remember that I always make a contribution to the food bank collection box at the supermarket every week, but it doesn’t seem close to being enough.)