You Never Really Know Someone Until They Pack a Lunch for You

It was a particularly crazy morning racing all about trying to get kids ready for school. I have discovered that I can save time by using the same tool for flat ironing my daughter’s hair to quickly press my my clothes if I stand really, really still. Finding myself completely out of time, I asked my 15 year old son to please pack lunches for he and his sister (and maybe pack of bag with coffee and Motrin for me.) After the dust had settled from our early morning free for all, we were in the car headed to school.  That is when my son made the most intelligent observation.... “You know Mom.... You never really know someone until they pack a lunch for you.” The wisdom of this struck me in such a way that I was awed by it. He is so correct. When my mother prepares lunches for the kids, everything is home-cooked, compartmentalized, crust is removed from sandwiches and a loving note has been attached to a freshly baked cookie. When I prepare their lunches, they never know if the crust will be removed from the sandwich or not - it depends on my mood of the morning and how far behind I am. A crust-free sandwich is a sure indicator that I am sane and ahead of schedule. I will toss in some chips and a pre-packaged brownie. Feeling badly about the evil poly-saturated, trans-fat partially hydrogenated glutonous bromine that I am certain is in that brownie - I toss in some guilt fruit. "Here honey, have an orange that we both know you can’t peel, but I will feel better knowing it ranks high on the food pyramid." I’m not certain, but I think that bromine stuff might be what goes in my hot -tub. Heck, it preserves brownies and pool water. Must be good stuff. No time to write a note, so I throw in a coupon or a copy of the water bill that happens to be laying on the counter. At least they know it is from me. If my kids aren’t getting guilt fruit from me, their father is packing their lunches. He will toss in a leftover piece of catfish from last night’s dinner, a piece of red onion that has been sitting on the counter overnight, a family size bag of stale Cheetos, and a can of evaporated milk - it does say milk on it, you know. The contents of our packed lunches so represents the lives we lead. My goal in life is to prepare a lunch with crust-free finger sandwiches that are prepared with all organic ingredients, individually wrapped, fresh fruit hand picked from my orchard of seedless, easy to peel oranges, a home-made brownie baked with love and not pool chemicals, and a note that says, “Your mother is well and all is right with the world.”