Would you kick me out of your bed for eating crackers?
Answer this question, then post it in your journal. If anyone answers "yes", cry a lot and ask why they don't like you, then try seducing them by suggesting alternate cracker varieties.
To cause a potentially awkward relationship discussion, ask your SO the same question, ideally while naked and holding a cracker.
My answer for all of you, assuming you were in my bed for reasons that seemed legitimate at the time: I'd kick the crackers out of bed. And since it's no fair for me to post a meme without any actual content, I present a childhood story.
Dad had a hard and fast rule against eating in bed, particularly crackers. This was his very rational response to sensory sensitivity issues. Crumbs on the sheets were a very bad thing for him, and would lead to immediate and complete stripping of the bed to remove and replace the offending sheets, because he just could not abide the feeling that much. (I am somewhat less sensitive, but can't abide it either, thus kicking the crackers out of bed.)
One lazy summer afternoon, my sister and I were determined to simultaneously enjoy our books, the luxury of lounging on our parents' bed, and tasty fresh sweet garden carrots, picked just that day and scrubbed in clear cold water, with the tops snapped off and fed to the hungry and appreciative chickens. Now, our parents never laid down rules without reasons, and had been in the habit of explaining the reason for each rule to us as soon as we were old enough to understand. (This did lead to some ... creative ... endeavors in interpretation. Tay-Tay was better at that than I was.) This day was one of those days. One of us reasoned as follows: "Well, Dad's objection to food in bed is crumbs. Carrots are a food. Carrots do not leave crumbs. Therefore, Dad's objection to carrots in bed is invalid (and he will never know if we flout it in his absence). Q.E.D." So we ate our carrots, curled up reading with Mama.
At night when Dad came back, we thought we'd gotten away with it -- until Dad let out an unholy shout. Seems that one of us (probably me) had left a carrot stump in bed. These are evidently cold when encountered with the naked bottom, especially unexpectedly, in bed. Dad laid down the law: NO EATING IN MY BED. PARTICULARLY NOT CRACKERS. NOR CARROTS.