Mealtime issues

There was no school today, which I suppose makes up for the fact that there was school on January 2nd. I even remembered to not send my kids to school (even though this day was not marked as a day off of school on the official calendar magnet they sent home at the beginning of the school year), which I'll mark down as a win in my book (even though all we had to do was remember to sleep in and not get ready in the morning).

Yesterday after I picked Benjamin up from kindergarten we decided we'd head over to he playground for a little while because it was such a beautiful day.

While we were playing my phone rang. The number was local, so I answered it but heard nothing, aside from what sounded like heavy breathing. I get a lot of junk calls (who doesn't? (I want to know your secret)) and was about to ignore this call as a just that, but on account of the heavy breathing (and previous experience will cell phone stalkers) I decided to do a little research on the phone number, just in case.

Turns out the call was from the school.

I called back the office and told them that I'd just missed a call, though I didn't know who had called or why.

"Oh, yes," the secretary said, somewhat absently. "Your daughter asked to use the phone."

"Which one?" I asked.

"Which one?" the secretary repeated.

"Yes, I have three children at your school..."

"Oh, I'm not sure."

"Well, was she blonde or brunette?" I asked.

"Hmmmm...I really wasn't paying that close of attention."

Clearly.


"Do you know what it was about?" I asked.

"She forgot her lunch, I think."

"I have a daughter in grade five and a student in grade three, so did she look like an older kid or..."

"It was probably your older daughter because she went out the door towards the fifth grade hallway. What's her name? I can page her."

So I told her Rachel's name and I know that she really did page her because, well, I was at the playground behind the school and you can hear all the school announcements from there. Unfortunately, Rachel was in the lunchroom and did not hear the announcement because "the lunchroom gets really noisy."

I, personally, think a noisy lunchroom is a great thing because the kids need a chance to cut loose and get all their talking and wiggling out at some point in the day, don't you think? The whole red-orange-green cup at their old school drove me crazy (you were only allowed to talk "on green cup," otherwise it had to be deathly silent and the assistant principal was always in there strictly patrolling volume levels and it drove me crazy (did I already mention that?)).

The secretary came back to me after a few minutes and said that she was unable to locate Rachel, so I decided to just let it go. Mostly.

I looked for her out on the playground, but didn't ever see her (Rachel—you have a new playing place at recess and I don't know where it is so how am I going to stalk you after I pick up Benjamin from school now?). So eventually I took the little kids home for some lunch and figured Rachel's friends would take care of her, and boy did they ever!

When she got home from school I said, "Hi, Rachel! Are you hungry?"

"No..." she said.

"What did you have for lunch?" I teased.

"Oh. I forgot my lunchbox."

"I noticed. I picked up the phone when you called, you know, but you didn't say anything. You just breathed into the phone."

"No, you didn't say anything. I thought you were just breathing into the phone as well!"

We must have had a bad connection.

"But don't worry," Rachel said. "Everyone shared with me. I had cranberries and peaches and Bugles and Kenzie's mom brought me a sandwich and..."

"Wait. Kenzie's mom did what?!"

"She brought me a lunch."

"Why?!"

"When I told Kenzie that you didn't answer your phone, she went to the office and called her mom. I told her not to, but she did anyway. I couldn't even finish the lunch that Kenzie's mom brought because everyone had already shared so much with me."

So, that's not at all embarrassing. Kenzie's mom only has five of her own children to worry about. Why not worry about mine as well?

We spent the rest of the evening joking about calling up Kenzie's mom to fix everything.

Lightbulb burned out? Call Kenzie's mom.
Mouse in the garage? Call Kenzie's mom.
Really want a cookie? Call Kenzie's mom.

*******

Miriam had her own embarrassing mealtime issues this week. She had gone to her friend Hannah's house to play and right around the time she should have been coming home I got a text from Hannah's mom asking if Miriam could stay for dinner. I texted back—pretty much immediately—to say that I was fine with that.

Then I continued making dinner for our family (because I really do feed my children, promise)—bean and cheese enchiladas. I heard the garage door open and someone came inside. The only person due home was Andrew so I called out, "Hi Honey."

"Hi Mom!" squeaked an eight-year-old voice.

"Oh, it's you!" I said, surprised. "I wasn't expecting you. I thought you were having dinner at Hannah's house."

"I was going to, but then I was worried you were napping."

"What does that have to do with you staying at Hannah's house or not?"

"I wasn't sure if you would text her mom back."

"Well, I did text her mom back," I said (though I'd later get a text informing me that Miriam had changed her mind about staying for dinner). "So that's awkward."

"Yeah. Well, I just decided to come home for dinner," she shrugged suspiciously.

"What's Hannah's family having for dinner?" I asked.

"Split pea soup," Miriam mumbled.

"Did you come home because you didn't want to have split pea soup for dinner?" I asked, doing my best to suppress the laughter growing inside of me.

"Maybe," she said.

I snickered.

"What?!" she said. "I've never had it before. What if it's gross?"

"That's fine," I said. "You're always welcome to eat at our house."

"What are we having for dinner?" she asked.

"Split pea soup," I said.

"What? Mom!" she shrieked, catching me in my tease.

"Enchiladas," I said.

"Good."