I don't know if every family has refrigerator rules or not. For the last 20 years or so, we have had a houseful of boys, a few "adopted" sons, all the friends of all the boys, and a bunch of kids coming and going that I'm not even sure who they were!
So, the refrigerator is a sacred place in our house. I have to change the hinges on it every few years. Early on as the teenage carnage began to ensue around the ice cold altar, I learned that for any teenager, anything in there was "fair game." Even though there were rarely "left-overs," I learned that you'd better lay claim to something if you didn't want it gone within a few hours.
So, The Mrs. bought a case of those yellow sticky-notes that we used for years until we ran out them. The rule is that if there's not a note on something, any teenager is welcome to chow down. But if there is a note...you're liable to turn to a pillar of salt if you even think about sneaking some of it.
This is especially true of "doggie bags" that come from restaurants. I can't hardly ever finish a restaurant meal, so I always get a "two-fer" out of it. But if I forget to stick a note on it saying "Andy," I know that I'm gonna find the styrofoam box in the trash the next morning.
The rule is just a note with a name, but The Mrs. went a little further on Friday. She made Phillip's favorite dessert, Peanut Butter Oreo Pie, to celebrate his graduation on Saturday. I knew that it was in the refrigerator on Friday night, and I've got to admit that it was calling my name. So, I just meandered in there to the holy place to take a peek. This is what I found...
The Mrs. was serious about this one. I was almost afraid to pull it out to take a picture. My hands were shaking, and I was trying to get it back in there before she caught me. Well, now she'll know, and she'll be proud that I didn't sneak a piece and blame it on one of the kids. The thought did cross my mind...
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Don't cuss nobody out, okay?