Thursday, January 10, 2013

Cutting Corners: Confession of a Hurried Dad

Dear Peanut,

I don't write you letters nearly as often as I'd like. This time, however, extenuating circumstances have forced me to come clean. Those circumstances mainly being my guilty conscience and... well, not much else. But before I come clean, I need to give you a warning: Be careful what you wish for.

Recently you switched your daily lunch request from chicken nuggets to peanut butter and jelly. You did so despite my mild protests. You see, my princess, it is a lot easier for me to make you a week's worth of nuggets on Sunday night, store them in the fridge, and gather four of them at a time every morning along with some peas and blueberries for a balanced and delicious lunch.

That's the special spreader.
On the other hand, making a fresh PB&J every morning while I'm rushing off to work is a mess and a hassle. The bread, the ingredients, the special PB&J spreader. (Yes, there is such a thing and we have one.) The crumbs on the counter. Not to mention the biggest hassle of them all: the removal of the crust. (Quickly followed by the subsequent ingestion of the crust because daddy doesn't like to waste food.) On top of all of that, add to the equation a spoiled dog who believes she is entitled to peanut butter any time the jar is taken out of the pantry.



So of course I cut corners. Literally and figuratively. You should know that when I cut the crusts off your sandwich, I do so purely out of love because I know that's how you like demand it. It's an added step that could potentially cause me to miss my bus because now I'm really cutting it dangerously close. But the fact that I cut off your crusts is really no secret. The secret is what I do afterwards, right before I pop them in my mouth or put them in a baggie to take to work and snack on at my desk. (If I have time.)
Why let that go to waste?


You see, Peanut, even though I'm racing against time. Even though I'm risking tardiness that could throw my entire morning's work flow, and the production of the quality news program I run into complete anarchy, I still need to keep a neat kitchen. And I am still looking out for you. I don't want runaway peanut butter and/or jelly to escape following crust removal. I don't want it to drip on the counter. And most important, I don't want your cute little hands to get any stickier and messier than necessary while you're enjoying your homemade-with-love PB&J at school. So I do something to prevent the messes on both of our ends:

I lick your sandwich in a hasty yet delicious act of desperation, frenzy, and love.

Yes, licks of love.

As I said before, I make peanut butter and jelly for you, out of love. I cut the crusts off for you, out of love. Therefore, I lick your lunch, out of love.

A + B = C.

Made with love.
Just think of that next time I kiss you and you complain my breath stinks.

You're welcome.

Love,
Dad

P.S. Remember: Be careful what you wish for.

This is just one more thing we've had to adjust to since Peanut started Kindergarten, as I first wrote about HERE

17 comments:

  1. you. are. awethome.
    *hugs and squees*
    it's kinda poetic...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That's sweet of you to say. Will my daughter agree when she reads this?

      Delete
  2. Glad to know I'm not alone. Thanks for the chuckle this morning! -Caelyn

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I am glad as well. And you're welcome. Happy to make you laugh.

      Delete
  3. That's so awesome! Love is a powerful thing.

    I like the part where you cross out like for demand. Sounds familiar.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. hahahaha. You know all about little princesses and their demands.

      Delete
  4. I've started buying my kids Smuckers Uncrustables (frozen pb&j sandwiches in a neat little circle with the crust already cut off). Complete lazy mommy fail!!!! At least you can say Peanut's sandwiches are made/licked with love!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Definitely love involved... we all do what we have to do to get 'er done.

      Delete
  5. Lol--I do the same thing! I thought I was the only one...then I caught my husband doing it, too. Seems like this is a popular sandwich-making technique!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Get a sandwich press. I got one from Pampered Chef. You push down on the top and it presses the sides together, sealing it. Quick crust cut and seal all in one. No licks of love needed.

    ReplyDelete
  7. HA! Glad pb&j isn't on the Christmas Eve menu! :-)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. No, my dear sister. But I didn't wash my hands before I made the crab cakes. :-P

      Delete
  8. We aren't allowed to send pb& j to schools in Ontario anymore. :( Too many peanut allergies. My kids almost starved to death because it was the only "food" they liked in a packed lunch. Wound up sending cheese & crackers & kolbassa slices and carrot sticks or celery. Way more work than pb&j so I was not amused especially when I got cut off caffeine so had to switch from coffee to tea. Making lunches at 5:30 a.m. on no coffee is almost impossible. Finally started pre-cutting stuff on the weekends and dipping into the stash all week. You are very lucky.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yes... there are separate tables in the cafeteria for kids with peanut allergies. I guess it works because no one seems to complain. Your morning lunch routine sounds A LOT more difficult than mine. Whew!

      Delete
  9. hahahahaha!!! I'm dying!

    Your poor peanut may NEVER have play dates at your house again... at least not without a paper bag lunch in hand ;)

    ReplyDelete

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.

Share

Widgets

THE STREAK IS ALIVE!



What is "The Streak?" Click here to read more.