The big trade
In typing up notes for an upcoming story on school lunches, I was suddenly reminded of a conversation I had with my own children when all three were still in the public schools.
There they were, in elementary, middle and high school, respectively, and there I was, happily slicing carrots and celery stalks and worrying about whether tuna salad would go bad while sitting in their locker, when it was forcibly brought home to me that packing is not the same thing as eating.
“Mom, could you pack me an extra bagel?” I recall one of my babes saying.
“Sure,” I replied, tickled that I’d hit on something they liked.
“Yeah, my best friend likes them, and I can trade it for a candy bar her mom gives her.”
That’s when the other two chimed in, explaining what their friends brought, what they brought, and how they pooled their resources every lunch hour and chose what they wanted.
I guess it’s better than the story one of our editors tell when he was in school in the 1930s and a buddy of his would toss his brown bag over the fence of a local junk yard every morning on the way to school. When the snow melted in the spring, the remains of scores of school lunches were discovered…