Lunches

I am so enjoying this season God has given me with my son, before he's out on his own for good. I have even enjoyed preparing lunches for him each day.

As I shop for foods, I realize that he's not the cute little kid with the Spiderman Lunch Box anymore, and I have to be kind of careful with my choices. He does, after all, work with Diesel Technicians. Can you say "burly men"? Pudding cups and Fruit cups are probably out of the question.

My theory was proven when I made him two Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and stacked them in plastic containers so they wouldn't get smashed. One of his co-workers leaned over and remarked, "What you got there? A loaf of bread?" Since Ty never knows what he's getting until he opens his lunch box, he was thinking the exact same thing. He was very relieved to find there were actual sandwiches.

His lunch room is also divided by not classes, but by language. Those who speak Spanish naturally sit together. Everyone also has their "regular" seat, and there was only one seat left in the English section when Ty started working there.

One day, I packed him a lunch of leftovers. This is usually just fine since it would involve spaghetti, salad, and garlic bread. This day, however, it was literal leftovers. I had some black beans. I had some shredded chicken. I had some shredded cheese. I had some tortillas. He opened his box and stood in line for the microwave (there are 3 of them) and his Spanish speaking friends took note of his food.

"Hey, what you got there? Maybe you should be sitting with us, eh?"

"Yeah!" said an English speaker. "And if you do, don't come back!"

What is positively, unequivocally, and undoubtedly forbidden, I'm sure, would be a cute note from his Mom telling him how wonderful he is.

I do, after all, want him to come home alive.