My poor, dear wife.
This morning, like so many others that have come before, she faced a dread responsibility. A wearying, nigh insurmountable task.
I could see it plainly in her posture as she mentally prepared herself, gathering her inner strength. She slowly closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, took a deep breath, and began:
“Michael, what would you like for lunch at Ms S’s today?” It came out in near monotone. At once she braced for his reply.
“Well,” he began, tilting his head back to ponder the ceiling while he stroked his beardless chin, “something… like… Cheez-its… and… something else… that I like…”
My wife emitted an audible groan and her already slumped shoulders shrunk down even more. I could see the life energy drain from her as our son dragged his menu selection on ad infinitum.
Michael’s enjoying his new school, and aside from one particularly horrific episode, has exhibited exemplary behavior. He’s eager to go in the morning, has learned some new skills in reading and writing, brings home artwork nearly every day, and enjoys the songs he learns there. His manners at home have even improved to a degree, and his maturity level has increased as well, which is a wonderful thing to see.
But lunch time continues to present a problem.
They’re peanut-free over at Ms S’s, thus eliminating peanut butter as an option. For most American kids, PB&J is a boilerplate staple, and it would constitute half if not three-fourths of Michael’s yearly lunch entrées were it allowed. And then there’s the other widely-hailed favorite, cheese. But Michael hates cheese. The exclusion of those two leaves us in a barren wasteland of a sparse few known-acceptable items.
He tried almond butter, and he nearly retched.
He tried their hot lunch a few times, but it’s most often a cheese-fest so that’s out as well.
We’ve given him dinosaur-shaped ham sandwiches, but they’ve come back uneaten: whole and nearly as fossilized as their reptilian cousins.
His favorite food is Campbell’s Chunky Sirloin burger soup. Unfortunately this is also his oldest sister’s favorite food, so despite our nuclear-fallout-shelter-sized stock of this product, we cannot sustain our reserves. He also likes chicken and stars, but it’s not as substantial; there isn’t nearly enough protein in that to keep an active little guy like Michael warmed and filled for the remainder of the day.
Which brings us to Michael’s Mommy’s plight.
She has to ask him what he’s willing to eat.
He is unable to simply state what he wants in 25 words or less. Instead, he must take us on a literary journey, a culinary quest in which we must unravel the deeper meaning behind his unending comestible ruminations.
When the question of what to have for lunch is asked, rather than just saying something like “I want a turkey sandwich,” he instead begins to spin a yarn in much the same way the Ancient Mariner recounted his Rime.
“I would like…. something yummy… that isn’t cheese… and has… blue…. aaaaaaaaand… not peaches…” I usually pass out around part seven or so.
His mother pleads with him, faintly: “Please, Michael. Please. I’m begging you. Just tell me what you want.”
“Uh…. maybeeeeeee… a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
“You can’t have peanut butter at Ms S’s, Michael.”
“Oh… okay… then uh……. maybeeeeeeee a …. like……. something that’s yummy….” I hear my wife gasp her last and succumb, while Michael continues to verbally peruse his imaginary grocery store, chin firmly ensconced in his fist.
On those days when Michael’s mommy works, it’s my job to pack his lunch. I’m not nearly as accommodating as my wife; whatever I pack for Michael’s lunch, that’s what he eats. I skip the questioning and just put in what I think sounds good. I figure, if he’s hungry enough, he’ll eat it, whatever it is.
Next year he’s packing his own lunch. If that means he has Lucky Charms for his main course every day, I guess I’ll have to learn to live with it.
Way too funny! Of course, I was the mom of the pbj meister so what do I know?
Were it me I would make up a pot of eagle-claw soup with lotsa chicken chunks and freeze little Michael- size portions for his dining and dancing pleasure.
His mother is much too patient.
I will give this matter further thought, however.
Gramann
(MD) I remember that soup. As I recall I lost a lot of weight during that period of my life.
I’m with Michael on the almond butter…yuk! One suggestion: store the Campbell”s Chunky Sirloin Burger soup with the canned cat food; that way you might have some left for Michael’s lunch. When Chicken and Stars is on the menu add a jar of sticks to chicken up the protein. Also, he really likes Redneck Bacon and I bet he would like it minced with a little mayo, olive and pickle as a sandwich spread or just a bacon sandwich. Have you tried deviled ham sandwich? What’s left? Kid Cuisine chicken nuggets and ravioli!
(MD) Not a bad idea! Since no teenager ever makes the effort to actually take care of the cat or look for items that might be stored, it’d be as safe as Fort Knox. Thanks for the suggestion.
Why peanut-free? Does someone have an allergy? And if so, why can’t Michael bring his own pb&j sandwich? Just curious about this. If my daughters couldn’t eat pb&j at Michael’s age, they would have starved. But, they did like cheese, too. What is almond butter?
I think I would pick your way of packing Michael’s lunch. I have absolutely no patience, ESPECIALLY in the a.m. Ask my girls. LOL
BTW, I agree with you, your poor, dear, very patient, wife.
(MD) Yes, there are two kids with peanut allergies at Ms S’s. You can’t even send your kid to class if they’ve had peanut butter for breakfast at home, it’s that bad. I honestly don’t know why peanut allergies are so common these days, when they were unheard of or rare at best thirty years ago.
I like your method. Sometimes I tease the kids and ask them to choose between A or A cuz I’m making A. Hehe. The joys of parenthood.
BTW – Love the reference to Rime of the Ancient Mariner. One of my favorites…and a pretty good Iron Maiden song as well
(MD) I think it’s a daddy thing. We don’t bother with accommodation and servitude, we simply declare the way it’s going to be, and expect nothing less than utter obedience. As it should be.
I too hate packing lunches. I have 2 that won’t eat sandwiches and 1 that won’t eat soup. 1 That will eat peanut butter, sans jelly, one that will only eat peanut butter if jelly is involved etc. Have you tried nutella? We did, but it was only a short term fix (2 days).
(MD) Haven’t tried Nutella, though I figure it’d get the same reaction as the almond butter. I might just dump his Halloween candy bag into his lunch today and let them deal with the fallout.
I feel her pain! Packing lunches is a pain in the rear! I have tried sending in the kids to do it, but with all the oversight that requires it is just as exhausting.
(MD) Kids are exhausting no matter which way you slice it. I figure by the time Michael’s 18 I’ll be looking forward to being packed off to a retirement home where other people can take care of my wife and me.
Well next year when Michael is going to public school if he wants PB&J or some sugar bomb cereal then that is what he will get!!!
(Hubby) You tell it! I’m going to see if I can find a case of Pillsbury Space Food sticks online. He’ll love those.
When I read no PB&J I was thinking like Ty Webb, “Is this Russia? This isn’t Russia.” That is terrible. Good luck with the lunches. I also particularly liked your boilerplate reference. I have an engineering colleague that use that a lot.
(MD) I know, it’s ridiculous that a kid can’t bring a PB&J to school. It’s not like he’s bringing a satchel charge of C4 or ampules of plutonium or anything. Can’t science come up with a peanut allergy cure, for crying out loud?
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