Sandwich Artist

There are a lot of little details about elementary school that have escaped me.  I don't remember the color of the halls, or the sound of the bell, but I can remember vividly my green lunch box, and the anticipation of opening it to see what my Mom had packed for me to eat.  

She was more creative than I am, packing my lunch with interesting wraps, or thermoses filled with soup and crackers.  And I don't know if I was less picky than my sons, or if I am simply too frazzled as a parent to attempt anything so adventurous, but day after day we seem to remain trapped in sandwich land.

In an effort to include some fun surprise for Cael, I drew a little picture of a flag (something we'd discussed earlier that day) and slipped it in his lunch bag, since his reading skills are still limited and a lengthy note about having a great day at school would be a wasted effort.  Upon picking him up from school, Cael pulled out the crumpled flag picture from his bag and told me how he had shown all of his friends and wanted to keep it "totally forever". 

Crap.  I wanted him to like the idea, but now, two weeks into the school year, I'm already struggling to come up with new ideas while Cael is just gearing up.

"Mom, would you draw me a spaceship, please?"

 "Hey, Mom, a puppy would be really cool."

"My friend at school says you should draw a hot air balloon."

So I did.  I did them all, and then some.  But with 96% of the school year ahead of me, Cael is going to have to cut me some slack.

"Today, Mom, I need a picture of a cat up in a tree, but not a tree with leaves, like a tree in the fall with the leaves on the ground.  And then I need a fireman getting the cat out my spraying it with the water from the hose.  But the firetruck should be green, not red.  And the cat should be orange, not black."

"I'll get right on that, Cael."