Thursday, November 24, 2011

Here's where to pack your "lunch notes"



Here's where to pack your "lunch notes"
As if mothers need anything more to do. Or one more thing to add to the list of things to make us feel inadequate. Wall Street Journal--To Pack an A-Plus Lunchbox

I mean, FFS. Did you read the article? You have to. Go ahead and read it now. I'll wait.

I know! Love notes every day? Gift-wrapped sandwiches? Are they out of their freakin' minds? Am I the only one who thinks this is ridiculous? Back when I made my kids' lunches every day, most of the time I was just happy I actually remembered to make them, then happy to remember to have my kids take it with them to school. Now, because of some over-the-top, type-A parents, we're all expected to compose daily lunch haikus? (Although, full disclosure, I did write down cute notes on those bananas that one time.)

And to make it worse, it's not enough to jot down an "I love you" or a "Remember: chew, chew, chew, swallow" on a Post-It or any old piece of scratch paper you have lying around. No! How embarrassing for your child! They will feel unloved and be mocked by their peers if their love note isn't written on Pottery freakin' Barn or Disney stationery.

What is the matter with you people? Yes it's a nice idea. Sure, it's cute. Hey, like I said, even I've been known to write on the occasional banana. But you've made it into a godamned contest! Lunch is hard enough for kids--worrying about where to sit and who to sit with and should you trade your Oreos for Fritos and actually eat that apple that's in there? Now you people need to complicate lunch further by upping the ante? My child is more loved than your child because I have too much free time in the morning (and apparently at other times, too, because you actually shopped for special stationary to write your lunch notes on!)

Tomorrow, I will pack a note for my childrens' lunches. Here's what it will say:

Dear  Fill in your own damn name here,

I've failed you. Outside of that one smiley face I etched on those bananas that one day in the third grade, I've been remiss in the lunch notes department. I'm afraid I've shown what a horrible, distant and icy mother I truly am. You must feel terribly inadequate and unloved and are probably suffering from low self-esteem. Surely, you must have endured the smug grins of other, more-loved, students who tore the Sally Foster from their ham and swiss to reveal an endearing note inside, one that said something along the lines of, "Connor. You are so much better than everyone else."

I'm sorry. I will try to do better. Here is a special lunch haiku I wrote specially for today. I hope it will make up for all those lost years.
I am loser Mom
No notes, only healthy food
Be glad I am sane
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