The fridge always had at least one 2-liter pop, the pantry a wide selection of cereal, chips and other salty snacks, and sweets like Ding Dongs. I remember having to get used to Dan casually taking a bag and pouring himself a deep, wide bowl of salty potato chips. 

"You want some?"

I'd say yes, but feel wrong about it. I didn't know I could say yes.

Life under my mom's roof had never afforded me such freedom when grabbing a snack. My mom allowed minimal snack purchases and when we were lucky enough to have something like a bag of Cheetos in our pantry she'd always catch me as I tried to grab some. It's like this other sense we shared. She'd know exactly when I was reaching for snacks. and I'd know just when she sensed me. The way she would stop doing whatever it was she was doing and get up, the floor would vibrate a specific way.

"Are you hungry?"

"Mmm. No."

"Well if you are how about I make you a meal?"

Sometimes I'd say yes because I would realize that I actually was hungry. But more often I was just craving a snack. Bored and looking to stimulate myself with something salty and or sweet. In these cases I would just return to whatever I'd return back to whatever it was I was doing feeling defeated and dreaming of how I would buy boxes and boxes of snacks once I became an adult.

Both Dan's parents worked. When the school bus dropped us off, Dan, Kenny, Mishay, and I got back to an empty house -- besides the dog Barney -- and we could eat all the snacks we wanted. It didn't take long for me to get used to being able to eat snacks whenever I wanted.