Confession: The Whomptons Hoard Food

Each breakfast on our honeymoon, Eric and I ate delicious toasted English muffins, slathered with butter and jam, and then discussed where we’d eat for lunch.  At lunch, we’d brainstorm where to eat for dinner. As Eric clearly revealed then, “I like to know my next meal is secure.”  We’ve operated under that mindset our entire marriage: that we should always have the next meal planned out and have the ingredients for it, etc., ready to go.  Once our household grew to five people strong, our food supply need increased dramatically and, therefore, so did our food stockpile.

Certain foods are considered staples in the house and we never run out of them.  Quantities of those items (dried beans, chocolate chips, canned tomatoes, peanut butter, oyster crackers) are closely monitored and, when numbers run low, we stockpile more to replenish our household supply.  Eric eats only Special K for breakfast; if that cereal goes on sale, we do not hesitate to buy all of it in a given store and then return back the next day to buy all of it again.  Yes, it might be a six-months supply of Special K, but he’s going to eat it so we might as well have it at the cheapest price.  We do not shop at Costco or Sam’s Club -- all of these supplies come from our neighborhood grocery stores -- and it just seemed like smart shopping to buy more of what we needed and have it available when we wanted it.

Our kitchen has a standard sized fridge/freezer and a traditional sized pantry.  Storing six-months of Special K became an overwhelming challenge with that limited space.  Initially we erected a huge pile of cereal in the unfinished portion of the basement but once Samantha and Krystal started stockpiling 6 months’ worth of their cereals too a new strategy was needed.  (Did you know that at Trader Joe’s you can special order a whole case of cereal?!  24 boxes at once!)  Storing ~60 boxes of cereal at once merited a better system.

This past summer, I invested some time at IKEA and I came home with five sets of storage racks.  As my anniversary gift to Eric, I redesigned and organized the unfinished portion of the basement and put together multiple racks worth of food.  Now we have a kitchen pantry that stores what’s in immediate use and a walk-in storage cellar with our stockpiled reserves.  It’s glorious and has been such a gift to our household.  We can buy large reserves of our commonly consumed shelf-stable food items and organize and store them for the long haul. We have been inadvertently preparing for the current apocalypse.

One of two food storage shelves in the basement

I admit it, I never considered these actions out of the ordinary.  I grew up in a household where we canned our own food and froze incredible amounts of homegrown produce and meat.  To give perspective: the top shelf of my bedroom closet held 20+ quart jars of canned green beans and tomato juice. I wasn’t allowed to put any of my stuff on those shelves, because food was always stored there.  My aunt and uncle bought a shed that, instead of storing lawn equipment, stored months’ worth of pantry staples.  Whenever I’d stay overnight at their house, I frequently heard “You want that cereal?  Well, go get it from the shed!” I was raised with the mindset that having a large personal stockpile of food was normal and encouraged.  It was a way you demonstrated you were caring for and taking care of your family. And, growing up, it wasn't easy for my parents to create that food stockpile; it was something they could point to and know that they were doing best by their kids.

It’s only now, in this age of quarantine, that I’m realizing it’s not normal.  When news reports are accusing people of hoarding, they are talking about me and my family.  The reality is, though, that we’re not doing any shopping now that is different for us than it was a year ago.  However, the community response to my shopping feels different now.  I certainly get lots more dirty looks if I buy 10 pounds of dried beans, for instance.  As a mostly vegetarian household we eat 5 pounds of dried beans a week, so purchasing 10 pounds is only a two-week supply, but it certainly looks selfish and maybe extreme when I’m piling them on the grocery conveyer belt now. I'm down to a single box of my cereal. Is it remarkably insensitive right now to order my standard 24 boxes? Or should I be making multiple trips separated over multiple weeks.  I honestly don't know. 

We Whomptons are in a place of extreme privilege:  we have the physical space, the permanent security, and the economic means to stockpile these reserves. I did not have full perspective on how privileged we really were until this current crisis hit; having that outside perspective mirror our home situation back at us has been a helpful frame for building more understanding. I never considered us to be hoarders until now and I'm ethically conflicted about what to do next.