I really hate being the last person to finish any food or drink in the fridge or on a table. I have let milk go bad rather than drink the last half-inch in the bottle, and I have let cereal go stale rather than eat the three-quarters of a bowl that's left in the box. You'll usually have to twist my arm to get me to finish the last slice of cake or pie on the plate. And I generally don't like being the person to 'kill' what's left in a bottle of wine, either.
(I can actually trace the source of this neurosis, though. My mother has a habit of opening the fridge, looking at the contents, and asking to the house at large, 'Who ate/drank the last [insert foodstuff or beverage]?' Seeing as how I'm an only child, you'd think that process of elimination would inform her that if SHE didn't finish it, it was probably either my father or me -- and asking either one of us 'Did you eat/drink this?' would be the sensible question, rather than addressing the invisible hordes who apparently like to open the fridge and eat the leftover meatballs when she's not looking. It's made me a bit paranoid about food.)
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(I can actually trace the source of this neurosis, though. My mother has a habit of opening the fridge, looking at the contents, and asking to the house at large, 'Who ate/drank the last [insert foodstuff or beverage]?' Seeing as how I'm an only child, you'd think that process of elimination would inform her that if SHE didn't finish it, it was probably either my father or me -- and asking either one of us 'Did you eat/drink this?' would be the sensible question, rather than addressing the invisible hordes who apparently like to open the fridge and eat the leftover meatballs when she's not looking. It's made me a bit paranoid about food.)