"No, otherwise it will come away, so it's a shame," says my mother, reluctantly stuffing the last piece of cake into her mouth. I have been listening to this wisdom since I can hold a spoon in my hand and probably the last spoon of porridge was hysterically shot into it before, even if I was no longer hungry. So that the rest of the world doesn't "get away". I sincerely hope that at least once in a while I have put her on the bib to avenge myself as a precaution for this lousy, internalized ideal of a plain plate with no remnants. Because nothing has ever screwed me up like this stupid ideal.

Your hips and the toilet are no better than the garbage

Don't get me wrong, I also find it terrible when people shovel huge mountains of buffets onto their plates and then throw half of them away and get something new. No question, it's really not a kind of thing. But if you're fed up with things, made a little calculation, or obviously Grandma understood "five kilos" when you said "a little", then it just doesn't make sense to me, eat up. This neither helps the children who have nothing to eat, nor does it help the piece of cake. If I were a cake, I would definitely die in a trash can rather than become the number four bacon roll for life. Nothing against bacon roll number fourteen, but I don't see the point of that-had-stop-away gluttony. Fun gluttony is great, no question about it. But really only if it's fun. Just explain to a panic scraper like my mother that her hips are no better than the trash. Admittedly, it only sounds so semi-charming.

The causal chain limps

It is so logical. If we eat less, we have to cook less, buy less, can buy higher-quality products from fair trade for the same money, milk from happier cows and vegetables, which may provide two worms but no chemical legs. But that would be far too intelligent. You are full when the plate is empty. Or the pot. Or the fridge. Because otherwise the weather will be bad. I believe. I've never tried it, because nothing is as sustainable as bad upbringing. Oh mom, you really got me into it … and as always I have to spoon out the soup. Without leftovers. Honor.