The piles of food were plenty when company came a'knocking. I could have some and then some more. Well, till I got the look. I could not take the last of it unless it was offered. I could not reach over the person between me and food. I was laughing, joking, playing, enjoying with food with company. Not with family, not alone. Tense, calculated, stressful. The looks, the sideways glances. Dad would eventually eat in another room. Mom would try to engaged us, but she did not lock up the beast, so there was a monster in feet away, how could we? But we dare not, or we would be punished.

Food=with others, good and fulfilling, with family not so much, at all.
Sam