Think Outside the Lunch Box

It's that time of year.  Cool mornings blossom into hot afternoons.  My mind turns to the coming onslaught of holidays, and my alarm gets set again.  I awaken in the dark, start the coffee like a thief in my own house.  It's Back to School.  New pencils.  Clean shoes.  The optimism of a fresh start.  "We're all in our places With bright shiny faces!"  I begin making breakfast and lunch.  I am Short-Order Cook!

I've got half a cup in me, my babies gather focused on waking up around my scratch- and -dent table, each with breakfast their first of many tasks for the day.   Boxes of Batman, Hello Kitty, and a sorry brown bag line up in front of me.  I am Sysiphus!  Each day a new conundrum. 

Batman is easy.  He'll eat anything.  He gets a banana, an awesome PB&J, some Laughing Cow and crackers, those ubiquitous baby carrots.  This one eats with concentration.  His brow is scrunched.  He doesn't have time to chat.   I put a napkin in knowing he'll use his shirt.

Hello Kitty has a list of things NOT ALLOWED.  No fresh fruit...(what will people say?)  "Applesauce?"  No thank you.  "Cheese?"  Only string cheese.  "String cheese tastes like plastic," I say.  "How about a sharp cheddar?"  She shakes her head adamantly.  "A nice triangle of Brie?"  She stomps her foot and frowns.  String cheese.  I throw it in, frowning slightly. 

She'll eat PB&J.  Sometimes she allows Ham and Swiss.  I've got her hooked on leftover quiche, but only if I remind her that it's Egg Pie.  I've sneaked in cold tortellini.  Miss Picky gets a steady rotation of graham crackers, veggie sticks, organic Goldfish substitute.  She may allow a hard-boiled egg;  it may or may not get eaten.

She's pretty sure she deserves a dessert every day.  "Really?"  I regard Little Miss shoveling Lucky Charms while I finish her lunch.  "Figs are Nature's Candy.  Wouldn't you like some?"  She nods enthusiastically until she sees me packing them.  Tears well in those stormy blue eyes.  My drama queen has vetoed the dried figs.  I pop one in my mouth and mumble  "More for me..."

All of this drama may turn to dust during lunch. She may choose to giggle and conspire at the lunch table, abandoning her precious Hello Kitty for the jungle gym.  This social butterfly may traipse out of her classroom without it at all and follow her friend to the school lunch line!  I close the box and move on down the line.

My Brown-Bag-It Girl grunts from the breakfast table as I pack her lunch.  She's turned vegetarian on me, this teenager who adores bacon, orders escargot with glee whenever she can, puts proscuitto on her grilled cheese.  I fill a tupperware with mesclun.  I layer thick slices of juicy heirloom tomatoes with soft buffala mozzarella.  I mumble something about proscuitto...She glares from above her smoothie.  I pop in my balsamic vinaigrette and a fork.  She may eat this standing up, sitting on the grass surrounded by friends and the Top 40 glaring across the Quad.  She may eat this during a game of D&D, or while practicing for Academic League.  But she'll eat it!  She may even smile, but I won't see that...

It's the only meal My Pack eats separately, the only Table where my Young are on their own.  I send them out with a box, a reminder of Home, Mommy, Us.  I watch them trudge toward School, the Great Corruptor, and hope.  I just hope.