“Think of all the starving children in India!” That’s what we used to hear, growing up, when we couldn’t finish our plates. And still, a lot of us were not able to join the ranks of the Clean-Plate Club. In a recent issue of the Weekly Standard, I look back on those days and how I was able to fool the nuns in school by concealing meals the way Andy Dufresne concealed rocks. Not that our playground was a prison yard. Actually, it was a parking lot. In any event, as an adult, I find the tables turned (sorry!). Call it a form of obsessive-compulsiveness but I cannot stand seeing good food go to waste. So I eat everything my own kids can’t finish. I’m surprised I haven’t gained weight in the process. Oh wait.