Monday, August 1, 2011

For the love of Raisins

When I was young I was fortunate enough to have joint custody with my parents. I love both sets of parents, but in my youth I thought they were surely trying to torture me, as I am sure most children do. They would make me comb out my curly mop which would dread lock itself immediately after I put my clothes on. They would make me take baths and brush my teeth, They gave me a strict bed time and made me read instead of watch TV. It was a tough childhood I must tell you.

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When I would spend my two weeks at my dad's he would take it a step further. He made me eat a sack lunch made with love instead of the "Hot Lunch" that all my friends got to eat. Man I longed for those toxic cherries and chicken fried steak covered in mystery gravy. But no, my parents insisted that a whole wheat (not white bread) PB&JR sandwich was the proper meal for me, along with a string cheese, carrots and a juice box, and 3 Chunky Chips Ahoy! if I was lucky. Now, you might be saying to yourself that I made a typo above. No... it really was a PB&JR.


PB&JR = Peanut Butter and Jelly Raisin Sandwich.

After years, and I really do mean years, of consuming this sandwich, I finally persueded my father to stop putting raisins in between the slices of wheat bread. I was a bright girl though, I knew my dad well. Sometimes he would "forget" that I didn't enjoy this "delicacy" so I checked my sandwich daily. He finally grew tired of my complaining and put nary a raisin in my lunch bag.

Until one day. It was an abnormally cloudy day in the 6th grade, and I should have know something was wrong in the universe. I sat on the orange bench at the bleach scented lunch table and munched on my PB&J, when all of the sudden there was a texture out of place. My father had place a single raisin in the middle of my sandwich. I raised my fist to the sky hollering "Noooooooooooooooooooooooo" for he had truly tricked this little girl. When he picked me up from school that day I let him have it. How could he dupe his little girl in such a cruel way?

If I had known then that this would be one of my favorite memories of my dad, well I wouldn't have changed a thing, but maybe I would have cherished those healthy lunches a little more.

Now my husband makes me my daily PB&Js. He is trying to perfect them to meet my picky standards, set by my father. PFunk also bought me little boxes of raisins for a little snack... so one day, just for old time's sake, I put one in my sammie and sent the pic to my dad.

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My lunch isn't as healthy as it once was, but that is the joy of being an adult

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Today I am very grateful for the way I was raised, even if I thought it was torture at the time.