When it comes to romantic dinners, there’s nothing less romantic (unromantic) than a human female thieving from the human male’s plate (i.e. theft).

If there’s ever grounds for instant divorce, this is it right here, and is the equivalent for women of the human male hogging too much space in bed.

Human females attempting to steal their husbands’, respective, foodstuffs should heed today’s agony aunt with the utmost of caution and learn from it.

All You Need is Love (and food theft)

Dear agony aunt. Recently, my wife and I were on our honeymoon in Hawaii. It was beautiful. Lots of sunsets that were pretty decent. Beaches that were pretty decent. It was decent, but I was soon homesick for Rochdale where I'm proudly from and have never once left before in my entire 32 years of life.

Anyway, we were there because the wife wanted a "spectacular" honeymoon.

What she DIDN'T mention to me is she's a SPECTACULAR bitch when it comes to eating during a romantic dinner! Like, EVERY SINGLE MEAL we've had so far, no matter how romantic, she's reached out and STOLEN from MY plate. 

First time she did it, I blew several blood vessels in my right eyeball. I was THAT angry! But I put on a stoic front. I refused to show it bothered me, because I figured it must be a one off and the woman is testing the waters, like. Frankly, I look back at that moment and realise it was a grave error. It opened the door for her to do it EVERY time we eat together.

But I feel there's a clear rule here to respect:

- SHE has the food on HER plate!
- I have the food on MY plate!

That's the distinction right there, okay? What's so difficult about that? Like, would you go over to a stranger in a restaurant and use the logic, "Okay, we're eating in the same restaurant together and this is a free-for-all, so I'll help myself!" And then take their lobster, or whatever, and eat it right there and then with them watching? No. It would be downright RUDE.

And that's what my wife is. RUDE. I didn't want to marry into RUDE, I married her because she's easy on the eye and her dad is loaded. But not for this! Because it reached its head on the last day of the honeymoon (last week now, thankfully we're back in Rochdale where everything is sage and secure—apart from the high crime rate in my are) when we were having a romantic, candlelit dinner on the beach. Sunset in the distance.

Crazy BITCH reached over and took MY parsnips. MINE.

Well, I flipped. I lost it. In seconds, the table was upside down and the food everywhere. I was raging and swearing and yelling at her that the marriage is over and she's a petty thief and a madwoman. The restaurant staff sided with HER and said I had to clean the mess up! Yet another example of how FEMINISM has destroyed all that is good and pure in the world. If I want to have a childish fit of rage to express my masculine superiority, I bloody well will! 

Needless to say, we sat in different seats on the flight home and haven't spoken to each other since the incident.

The great thing about that is when I cook my meals I get to eat EVERYTHING on my plate. That's what traditional society dictates and I'm PROUD to eat ALL the beans off my beans on toast.

Thank you for agreeing with my statements. Yours, Callum

Hi there, Callum. Beans on toast is, indeed, a call back to a world we’re sadly departing. When men could be men and women knew their place.

Sadly, these days women feel they can do anything. Work for a living. Vote! Choose their partners based on personal preferences. STEAL FROM THEIR PARTNER’S PLATE!

Truly, it’s a most disgusting time to be alive.

Right now, there’s nothing you can do about this state of affairs. Just make sure, at your next general election, to go out and vote for the most insane far-right candidate and hope to God society also deems that candidate the RIGHT fit for your constituency.

You can then lobby to have women stealing food from plates BANNED.

This is a long process you’ll have to go through. It’ll be arduous and test your every limit as a human male. But it’ll be worth it when the day comes. When you can eat beans on toast without fear of a SINGLE BAKED BEAN being maliciously stolen from your plate.

Focus on that glorious moment, Eric, for it’s the path to emancipation (and, possibly, constipation).