He’s been with us about six months and is now going to community college part time and working part time. He’s a good kid except for what he wants to eat. It’s not only unhealthy, which worries me, it’s expensive. He won’t eat most vegetables, definitely nothing green, no beans or lentils, no potatoes except fries or chips, no cheese except on pizza, no milk or yogurt, only white bread, rolls/buns. Nothing homemade (bread, cookies, cakes, etc.). No fruit except cut-up apples with peanut butter.
This leaves few options for dinner, no affordable ones, and it’s starting to bust our food budget. My husband gets annoyed when my brother’s eating hamburgers and we’re having chili stretched out with a lot of beans and rice. Or last night, we had chicken legs and he ate nothing but the chicken so ate more of them than me and my husband together.
I don’t blame my husband for being a little put out, since my brother’s board barely covers the extra utilities. He does pay for his own lunch supplies. Asking him to leave is out of the question; he’s still recovering from the trauma his dad laid on him. What can I do?
Going Broke: I wouldn’t even consider his moving out as an option, just to be clear. What you’re doing is right and necessary and pretty great.
The food issue is unfortunate, of course. But it’s also a chance to do even more to help your brother. He is old enough to be part of the solution. So please, present him both with the problem and with all the options you have available to you as a family; spread the parameters out on the table, basically, and say, “Okay, we’re feeding for three but spending for four, so let’s crack this together.” (I will never not think of the air-filter scene in “Apollo 13” when it comes to group problem-solving like this.)
The pieces are: one budget, three appetites, three adults capable of shopping for and preparing food, and three different palates. Right? So find out what each of you is able to contribute — be it Googling recipes or tracking grocery bargains — and where each of you is willing to bend, to make everyone feel included, welcome and well-fed.
That is the twin message you want to convey every time you deliver the budget message: welcome. He is welcome. Your brother is not only your brother, but also only 19, and traumatized. He is welcome in your home and in the discussion about running the household better.
Anything within the parameters could work, from making your own pizza to cheaper and slower-cooked cuts of meat to crowdsourcing (readers, please drop suggestions in the comments) to a different part-time job that gives him access to food to — wait, why no mention of pasta?
What won’t work is counting chicken legs. Or tut-tutting your brother’s nutritional deficits.
Or shaming of any kind: If you think he’ll react with self-loathing, then say nothing, shop extra-frugally and be patient.
The impulse to correct a young person is normal, but respectful, age- and stage-appropriate inclusion is healthier. It honors both the brave adult he already is, and the sensitive one you’re giving him room to become.