Best Laid Plans Ruined, Part II

OK, so I had recently blog posted about one of Mother's pastries that may have gone rotten, and I talked about how her making too much food might have been a factor.  Well, possibly another knock-on effect of being assailed with food I need to eat -- or, to be honest, it's because I just flat-out forgot, and Mother making food has nothing to do with it -- is that I forget some of the food I intend to eat.

I've spoken about how someone at work is just dropping off free food in our break room, and I've taken some from time to time.  One of the items has been applesauce.  I like applesauce.  It's a mushy, neutral treat.  You don't have to chew it, it's not crunchy, and you will not chip a tooth biting into it.  Also a (I think) huge plus is that it has a very, very mild flavor to it.  It's not bland at all, but it has just enough natural taste to make it appealing.  The cups of applesauce I have taken home add to it; there's been a strawberry-flavored one and a birthday cake-flavored one, I think.

Anyway, they need to be refrigerated.  And that creates an out-of-sight, out-of-mind issue.  I put them in the fridge, I have to eat the dinner my parents made, and then later I'm told to eat something Mother made.  All the while the applesauce has been in there, gathering dust (well, if dust can accumulate inside a refrigerator).  But Mother did bag up the cups together, just so the food I bring home is altogether.

Now, remembering that I have food in there is another challenge entirely.  And so when I remembered that I have cups of applesauce in there that I brought home weeks and more like months ago, I feel this intense pang of guilt and I follow that up with planning to finally eat them.  That pang occurred to me earlier this week; I wanted to eat my applesauce last night, while I was doing my night job.

Did I get to eat that?  Nope.

I frantically searched all over the fridge for it, but I didn't see a plastic bag.  Which means that one of my parental units decided I wasn't going to eat that applesauce anyway and choose to throw it away.  Can't cry over spilled milk, especially at this point, when it has been weeks if not months since I brought it home.  Not easy to complain about food even I forgot I had.  But it would be like them to determine that the food they buy and make is the only food I should eat, and that any food I would eat can just be tossed.  I don't want to be pissed and hurt and bitter about this, but ... heh ... it's difficult.