I scored big on the lunch-making front today.
I was prepping bits and pieces of lunch for my nine year old as I passed through the kitchen – mixing leftover turkey soup from last night with the last half cup of noodles from a few days back, getting it started in the microwave, locating the wide mouth thermos in the cabinet, that sort of thing. I checked with Evan about the rest of the lunch as we passed in the hall:
“Do you want watermelon?”
“Nah. Do we have any peaches?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll check. Plums…and yes! A peach.”
“Yay! I’ll have peach. And carrots too.”
In the medium (and large) lunchbox, the thermos fits nicely to one side, which leaves room for three side-dish-sized containers, or two containers and a drink. I don’t put the ice pack in the lunchbox when I use the thermos – they sort of compete with each other, leaving us with cool-ish soup and warm-ish milk by lunchtime – so I don’t pack milk on thermos days either, and I let Evan either buy milk at school or carry water.
I chopped up a carrot (Insider’s tip: the most nutritional value is in the peel, so cut the carrot into many thin slivers and they won’t notice you didn’t peel it)(better yet, for boys chop them into arrowheads – they love that) and put it and half a peach into two little containers. I popped these into the lunchbox next to the thermos, and tossed in one of the unmatched spoons from the silverware drawer that I really hope he loses at school someday.
Evan noticed the empty spot and said, “hey, there’s room for one more thing.”
I never pack a treat in my kids’ lunches. Have you ever emptied out a lunchbox at the end of the day to find that your child didn’t eat anything…except the cookie? And you wondered why that kid was cranky and whiny after school? Our house rule is this: eat your lunch, and you can have a treat when you get home.
So I was surprised and a little horrified to hear these words coming out of my mouth: “How ’bout a cookie?”
I guess I figured that homemade turkey soup, a peach and carrots was certainly a good enough meal to justify a cookie, but I was breaking my own house rule which every parent knows is a sure-fire way to lose all pretense of authority forever and ever. I waited for Evan’s response.
No surprise there. But then the kicker:
“Oh, but wait, there’s no water.”
Trying really hard to mask my shock, I said as casually as I could muster, “You want water instead of a cookie???”
MAMA’S BIG WIN FOR THE DAY: “Yeah, water.”
And he trotted out the door to get his bike out of the garage.
HALLELUJAH! AND AMEN!