Packing Laughs Into Lunches

I'm not sure if it's that there is so much of this







going on after school lately, or just the fact that he's just a growing boy and is hungry ALL THE TIME...but food has suddenly become a hot commodity around our house.

From the moment they walk in the door in the evenings, I go from the relaxed Kitchen Contessa mode to that of a vicious she-lion, trying to defend dinner against the pack of circling hyenas.

Anything ready-made is particularly prone to attack...amazingly even cold leftovers like Chicken Cacciatore.

Imagine that! The same kid who two years ago would turn his nose up at such culinary delights is suddenly rummaging through the refrigerator for his pre-dinner dinner, gobbling up anything and everything but the condiments.

I do believe it's true what my grandpa used to say...growing boys have hollow legs with holes in every toe.

The wolves in their stomachs are always howling.

Much time is spent plotting out the next opportunity in which this teenage boy can stretch out those long lanky arms and snatch back a snack.

This usually occurs while I'm preparing dinner and notice the level of the sliced black olives in the bowl has rapidly diminished since the last time I turned around. Or that there is a crumb trail from snatches at the cooked taco meat or shredded cheese.

This kid, however, has become so indiscriminate since turning 13 that he has even been seen nibbling on tomatoes and lettuce. Anything to fill the yawning chasm that is his stomach.

And STILL, in spite of his pre-dinner snack, the second the asking of the blessing is complete, he falls on his food like some half-starved Serengeti beast, devouring whatever is on his plate and usually asking for more.

It's become something of a challenge to keep enough food in the house.

Leftovers have almost become a thing of the past, unless it happens that I make a giant batch of whatever in my big church supper crock pot.

I used to be able to get by on one big grocery shopping trip at the beginning of the month, supplemented by a couple smaller trips later in the month to supplement the milk, bread and produce.

Now, I find that I must resort to hiding whatever I have purchased with a specific dinner menu or lunch in mind. The bulk bag of string cheese has a permanent home beneath the large bag of carrots in the bottom of the produce drawer, and the juice boxes for lunches are hidden behind the olive oil in my baking cupboard. If it's convenient, it'll disappear.

A couple of weeks ago, Jericho asked, "Mom...I love your lunches and all...but could you please pack me two sandwiches? One's not enough." Land sakes...the boy is eating like a man now!

I usually start off the school year with great intentions of having good nutritious bagged lunches for them each morning...but around the Holidays this seems to dwindle off for a time because hot lunches at school are so convenient and I'm usually up to my neck in other projects. I may or may not pick up the trail again regularly in the new year.

The year after Judah was born, I'm ashamed to say, was one in which Jericho actually begged me to begin making him lunches again because he was sick so sick of 'cardboard' food at the school. Silly me, as I kid I was usually begging for lunch money.

This year, however, in the interest of both saving money and ensuring my guys are eating nutritious, nourishing foods, I've once again become the lunch-packing queen. Ain't nothing gonna mess up my lunch-packing streak this year!

This doesn't mean I enjoy the task, however. Especially if I forget to make them the night before and remember just before I fall asleep, only to have to get out of bed, trudge to the kitchen and get the job done. (Incidentally, if I end up with problems sleeping in my old age, I'm blaming this and the 10 pm announcements, "Mom, I need my P.E. uniform washed for tomorrow.")

For me, the process sometimes becomes a little like pulling rabbits out of hats. I go into the kitchen and my creativity suddenly vanishes, **poof**, and I'm left trying to figure out what combination of things will work to keep the wolves at bay.

Jeff loves whatever I put in his lunches, even healthy stuff like hummus with pitas and veggie sticks, though he informs me that his favorite lunches are the rare leftovers from dinner the night before. A packed lunch means he gets to stay in his classroom for some peace and quiet during the lunch hour.

Jericho, notsomuch. He was embarrassed the time I sent his favorite chicken pasta salad...in a recycled (read: disposable) 32 oz. plain yogurt container. Could I help it that the only dish I didn't mind NOT coming home was a 2 lb. yogurt container? I'd even thoughtfully included a plastic fork.

In this family, disposable packaging saves more money, because if I try to do the prudent thing and send along a washable spoon or fork from home...I'll likely never see it again. It seems that lugging around a stainless steel fork after lunch is apparently too much responsibility for the 13 year old adolescent mind.

Jericho informed me that the reason he didn't like this in his lunch was that the boys at his table often sit around teasing each other about what they have in their lunches. I suppose the giant yogurt container did make him stand out from the crowd a bit.

They, do, do they? I replied, absently, while stowing that little tidbit away for a rainy day.

"I mean, they're probably just jealous because their moms don't pack as good of lunches, but still...I'd rather have the usual sandwiches."

So, a few weeks into the school year, I've begun to amuse myself by switching things up every now and again.

First, I again began writing funny notes in red sharpie on the side of their lunch bags. It started off as a way to differentiate between dad's lunch and Jerichos...but has become something much, much more.

On Jeffs, I usually write out mushy endearments or messages, but on Jerichos, I prefer writing out his childhood endearments like, I *heart* you Jer-Bear. *heart* mom.

When he mistakenly mentioned that he was curling his lunchbag down to hide the notes from his buddies at the lunch table, I kicked it up a notch, writing bigger, harder to hide notes, Luv ya snookums, *heart* ma.

I grinned thinking of the moment when it spiraled down to a showdown at the lunch table.

But alas, I was sorely disappointed. Even messages written on both sides of his lunch sacks failed to garner the attention I'd hoped for.

I was forced to ramp it up.

A few evenings ago while scouring the fridge, I found a lone leftover baked potato from our Labor Day picnic, and on a whim tossed it in on top of the lunch I'd packed him, chuckling to myself over what he would think when he discovered that in his lunch Tuesday.

Tuesday evening over dinner, he finally remembered. "Mom? What was up with that baked potato in my lunch?"

I could see that he was barely restraining a grin and deadpanned, "Well, you've been complaining about not having enough to eat in your lunches..."

"Seriously mom? A baked potato? My friends were like, 'What the heck? Why would your mom pack you a potato?' And my bag was all soggy from that potato, too. It fell apart so much I couldn't even read your note."

So the next day I tossed in a head of garlic.

And the day after that a snack baggie filled with hot peproncinis.

Ahhh, yes, but it does amuse me.

I will probably lay off for just long enough for him to think I've forgotten all about this little game, and then toss in a random snack bag filled with uncooked penne pasta or dried beans...or maybe a snack baggie filled with capers. There is also the leftover jar of mint jelly from Easter...

Ahhh, the possibilities are endless!