My boyfriend has now given me the nickname "Leftovers."
I guess this is his way of embracing the fact that I tend to not eat all of my food when we eat out. This fact was made especially apparent on our trip this weekend as our small hotel room fridge started to be crowded with styrofoam boxes (along with wine and local beer).
I just can't bare to waste food, even on vacation.
As a kid, I always wondered why hotels had ice machines. I thought it was so I could have ice to put in my vending machine sodas. But now I realize, it's for people like me who run out of room in their fridge for their leftovers and have to fill bags with ice to keep the food cold until the time they can finangle some help from the hotel clerks to use their employee microwave - which I did so I could eat on the beach with my Huevos Skillet I got at the Pancake Man in South Yarmouth. It may not have looked appetizing - a stew-like sight of homefries, eggs, and green chili all mashed together - but I thought it was a lot yummier than my boyfriend's breakfast of two McGriddles and hashbrown's from McyDs.