|Popular lunchbox sandwich (archaic)|
An article in today's Wall Street Journal runs the following headline above the masthead, in large white letters on a black background:
"THE MEAL PARENTS DREAD"
What could it be, I wondered: The last meal of a tot convicted of murder and about to be executed? Or maybe for a sick child having a feeding tube installed? Nothing so dire, it turns out it's the ordinary brown bag lunch for grade-schoolers that has today's young parents in a tizzy. One loving mom even goes so far as to declare, "I pack my son a lunch every day and I hate it." (How nice--I certainly hope he forgets that comment by the time she's in diapers and needing someone to spoon-feed her Ensure.)
It was 20 years ago, but the memory is fresh: I loved making my kid's lunch. Little notes, some surprises, drawings with Xs and Os all over the place. Healthy of course, but always with a special treat. And my husband still talks about the lunches his mom made every day, and twice, since he's a twin: each item wrapped in tin foil so he never knew what he had, a veritable treasure hunt each noon that he looked forward to. Of course today he might be suspended for all that tin foil, and his mom's blatant disregard for the rest of the world would be the talk of the town.
Sad times we live in.