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.
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.
My lunch isn't as healthy as it once was, but that is the joy of being an adult
Today I am very grateful for the way I was raised, even if I thought it was torture at the time.
