If You Had to Eat What You Write...

I had a friend once, who gave me the heel of the bread, the burned crust piece of the pizza, the bare scrapings of the peanut butter sandwich, and the broken crushed chips at the bottom of the bag.  She always had the best she had to offer while she gave me the "least".
I'm an eater and a grateful one, so I don't remember being irritated or hurt by this until her mom caught her one day. She walked in on us eating something, which I can't remember to this day what it was, but her mom looked...