I don't remember ever being given the option of crust removal.

We were not poor, but we did NOT waste.

my parents would not put up with that....NOPE

Then we would have gotten something along the lines of, "You are not leaving until you eat that crust.", or "Do I look like I am made of money?"

But, that was dad, not mom. She just had 'The Look' (Pat.Pen.), which would shrink you into a crying little ball in a second.

and saved them in the freezer for bread pudding or for dressing at Thanksgiving.

and the two end pieces of the loaf have always been my favorite slices.

We have neither the time nor patience ... (nor, likely, the spare change in grocery budget .. )

And if you don't feel like eating it ... "Fine - your choice." "See ya back here for dinner."

Suggesting going crustless would have triggered scorn only a sergeant could heep.

No thanks.

because I was getting British sandwiches (2 slices bread with a single piece of bologna). Needed every bit!

*When I first saw a submarine sandwich I fainted.

I don't think it ever would have occurred to my mom to cut the crust off.
She grew up pretty poor.

Wasting food was never even considered.

I think that I was in my twenties before I knew that there were some people who didn't eat the crust.

Nice to see you again!

Part of my growing up was in New Orleans. We ate aa lot of French bread and baguettes. There would be non violent argument as to who got the nose of the baguettes. I like waffles over pancakes because more crusty and also less than fluffy biscuits. Once i found a paper sack of bread curst that my aunt was going to feed to the duck, geese and swans. I was home alone and watching TV. I ate them all. I also like pie crust and pizza bones.

that told him that. Whichever way you were supposed to get curly hair he did the other. Never heard that from anyone else.

For end crusts...Italian, French baguettes, rye (NO caraway seeds!), pumpernickel!

I think if your parents were from a wartime and rationing background, that wasn't a thing. We'd have had to sit at the table until we ate them.

Ironically, Mom continued to save every scrap, in the refrigerator until it became moldy and she could justify throwing it out. When we visited as adults, we always tried to get her to let us clean out the fridge. She felt guilty about every discarded bit. Next time we came, it would be just as bad. At least they never ate any of it.

And as a kid, I had strategies to keep from eating the food I didn't like. Our kitchen table had structures underneath it that were effective shelves - a lot of food got surreptitiously shoved under there. And once I wore a plastic 'crafts' apron to the table because I knew she was serving overboiled canned mixed vegetables. I hated them. Those pockets held a lot. Not knowing what else to do, I buried the whole mess in the hamper, under the other dirty laundry. It must have been awful by the time she found it.

But she never admitted to cleaning it up or emptying the underside of the table. Dad would have gone volcanic. It just quietly disappeared.

Waste not, want not. Besides, my mother worked and didn't have time to deal with cutting off the crusts.

Sometimes I'd pull off the crusts and eat them first.

My father said it would put hair on my chest.
He was right, it worked!

We used wonder bread or its off-brand equivalent. The crust was the only thing that held that stuff together.

I always wondered what the deal was with kids not liking the crust. I always associated the crusts-off thing with impossibly-picky, wimpy kids.

We were taught that food was not to be wasted. That meant eating the crust and cleaning your plate. We could take anything we wanted, but we had to eat it—period!
These habits have stuck with me all my life and I see no reason to change now.

I still occasionally enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. I will often eat the crust first, saving "the best part" for last, the soft middle part of the bread that also has more peanut butter and jelly and has that burst of flavor. And if bread is still perfectly edible and safe to eat, though maybe not quite soft enough any more for the perfect PB&J sandwich, just lightly toast the bread. In that scenario, I might add some garlic, olive oil, and herbs, instead of peanut butter and jelly. Anyway, yes, and especially being working-class and paying for my own food, I am conscious about the whole "hey, that's perfectly good food" thing.