Hoarding it for Home

My life as a health addict has not always been severe. Our cupboards at home are usually decorated with Wasa crackers and various healthful condiments from foreign countries. But every once in a long, long while we go on a junk food binge that ultimately leaves us fat and panting for celery and chickpeas.
I remember one such sugar-spree in particular. My father was shuffling through the contents of our refrigerator in an attempt to find something to prepare for dinner. Towards the back of the second glass shelf-- between the Shiitake mushrooms and bell peppers-- he discovered an unnamed science experiment contained within the careful plastic of Glad's Tupperware. Holding the container cautiously over the sink, he slowly pulled the lid off to reveal a medley of molding green nastiness that had been shoved to the back of Leftover Corner and had gurgled happily there for Heaven only knows how many weeks. My mother was away visiting family at this time, and perhaps in a rash act of desperation and helplessness my father emptied the fridge completely of all the organic and easily perishable ingredients that my mother had carefully stocked upon its shelves prior to her departure. From my short perspective I could see a familiar glint come into my father's eyes which could only mean one thing-- chips.
Whenever my mom left town, my dad was left in charge of the grocery shopping. Buying food with Dad was like going on holiday. He is a bargain shopper, which means that he will tear down the cookie and cracker and cereal aisles and throw anything with a 2 for 1 special sign into the cart.
"Pop tarts? Frosted flakes? White bread? Throw it into the cart and let's get out of here!"
For a family who is accustomed to eating twelve grain wheat bread, flax oil, and fortified omega 3 eggs, junk food is a big deal. By the time Dad and the girls (everybody came along for the ride and to help load ice cream into the cart) arrived home, the backseat and trunk of the minivan were weighted down with bouquets and caboodles of sugary and salty snacks that yielded far more calories in one serving than what we were used to consuming in an entire day.
After the initial grocery trip life went downhill. I remember the first few days were glorious; we ate cold cereal for breakfast and bacon and chocolate and Heinz ketchup and other such foodstuffs that most true-blue Americans take for granted. After several meals of unending glory and sugary delight, the novelty of this American life would begin to atrophy and most family members were left feeling chubby and empty and fiber-less.
The crap food would be thrown out immediately before my mom's return, which would be greeted by an empty refrigerator that she would promptly replace with cucumbers, spinach, and mozzarella cheese. She would hustle and bustle and complain, exclaiming:
"For the life of me I can't figure out how you all go through so much food when I'm away!"
So break out the Wasa crackers again, Mom. Our eating habits are as dull as two dry toasts, because after all, you are what you eat.