Brown Bagging It

I've been a mother for almost 19 years, which means I've been making school lunches for quite a while now. In an attempt to correct the wrongs of my own parents, I thought I was a cool mom for buying soft bread and for spreading peanut butter and jelly all the way to the edges instead of the disproportioned lumps my dad would plant in odd corners that would make chewing my own sandwiches impossible without a steady stream of chocolate milk, not that I ever had such a treat. The thought of those dry moments of desperation at the lunch table--Michelle sat across from me with Wonder Bread clouds on which crisp lettuce and seasoned cold cuts would rest. Victoria was by my side, but not on my side, placing  Doritos in her own sandwich, not that her Fluffernutter needed any enhancements. My family thought zip-loc bags an extravagance, so a bruised, mealy apple was my dessert. So when I've thrown packaged granola bars and fruit snacks in the bag, I assumed I was giving my kids a lunch status that I knew I would never achieve. It turns out that I've only been doling out the 21st century version of the frugal hippy. My three boys have lived with bagged lunch shame for years, and I didn't even know it. God knows how many crusts and unopened snacks have made their way to a trash heap. My husband have offered wads of cash and a match occasionally to make our point, but...

This is all to say that I'm trying now, made possible by my recent Thermos purchase. Two of three boys still get packed lunches, but I haven't bagged a sandwich on days. I happily warm Mac and cheese, pesto pasta, and tomato soup in the morning. Most days, they eat it--nice bonus! Lucky kids these days. What's next? A nice cheese and charcuterie board? Croque Monsieur? Kids. Funny part is, they need to eat every single day. I guess it's good news that they have good taste.