For the second day, I’ve made lunch for the Kaiser to take to school. This is obnoxious for several reasons:
- I pay for lunch. It’s included in the tuition. And no, they can’t deduct it from our fees. I haven’t asked, because I’ll feel like a cheap, snotty asshole. “Errr, yeah. Your bah-bah-que chicken isn’t pleasing to my dahling’s sensitive palate. Can we please get a $50 deduction in our cost?”
- This is a sure sign of a high-maintainance future. You know the Kaiser is not going to agree to ride the bus. How utterly pedestrian. I blame the Husband.
- I often make sandwiches for dinner because I’m lazy and I like sandwiches, too. Now, if I make the little monkey a sandwich for lunch, I’m pretty sure I cannot justify another one for the last meal of the day. Which means the kid is gonna be eatin’ a fuckin’ ton of Easy Mac.
- No one wants to wake up and cut crusts. As a mother, am I obligated to do this? I don’t think so. No more. What IS that? There’s nothing wrong with the crust. I like the crust. It’s your responsibility, as a human being, to learn to like the crust. It’s what we do. Grow up.
If I don’t send lunch, though, the kid won’t eat. He says the food is gross. It probably is. He doesn’t eat meat. And yeah, I know he’s not going to starve, but don’t even tell me that it’s acceptable for a three-year old to skip lunch. I mean, it’s not like he’s an ex-smoker trying to cut calories.