On Saturday, the little one tagged along with me to her sister’s school. We sat in the cafeteria with the other waiting parents, and we sang, colored, and took a walk outside in the school yard.
The little one was more excited about the little bento I packed her, similar to her sister’s.
Saturday bento was:
Boiled quail eggs
Blanched edamame with a little sea salt
Mini-hot dogs (conventional) patterns cut into them, and boiled
Roasted beets (regular and chioggi) in heart shapes
Onigiri with steamed multi-grain rice, center of okaka, wrapped with nori
An interesting thing happened on the way to school. Despite my efforts to wean myself off of my morning cup of Joe, I sometimes can use a jumpstart for the morning. Needless to say, between the bento preparation, dressing, feeding, herding and corralling of two stubborn little sisters into my car, I somehow managed to forget my cup of coffee.
I brilliantly thought, ‘I’ll just go through the drive through at McDonald’s for a cuppa…”
Now, dear reader, desperate times mean desperate measures. If I had only woken up 10 minutes earlier, I could have had my cup of coffee, snuggly situated in my car rest – but I just. Couldn’t. Wake. Up. Before. 6:30.
I pull into the driveway, and see a line of cars and groaned inward. Yet, what really set me off, was the following exchange from my girls who had JUST eaten breakfast.
H: Oh, Mama, I’m so hungry.
Me: (Inwardly thinking !#(@*%)$?) I don’t understand… You just HAD breakfast at home. I asked you if you wanted anything else, you said you were full.
A: Fwench Fwies! Hungry!
Me: (Again, in my mind &#$*@^$#*!!). You JUST ate. Why are you saying French Fries???
A: Nanna! Fwench Fwies!
H: Mama, I’m hungry.
At this point, my blood pressure rising as I was inwardly kicking myself, I made a swift departure out of the parking lot, away from the line of cars. I swore in my head, the 10 minutes of lack of sleep were besides the point, I will WILL myself awake to never repeat this dialogue. I was even more concerned, HOW does a three year old associate the drive through at McDonald’s, where I can actually COUNT how many times I’ve driven through with them (Most often at the behest of my husband who used to be a fast-food junkie, and usually when pressed for time for meals FOR HIM)?
I grilled my husband when I saw him, how often he went through the drive through at McDonald’s. “Not that often, ” he replied – although I was starting to doubt everyone. My little one did say, Nanna, leading me to think, does my mother-in-law take her?
I realized the uphill battle I have, and was reminded again at how lonely it is, sometimes, facing the marketing behemoth, otherwise known as McDonald’s.
Needless to say, once we turned onto the main road, away from McDonald’s, my daughters both said, “Mama, what about your coffee? We’re hungry.”
I handed them two mini-onirigi I had packed as my breakfast and lunch, and told them if they were hungry, to eat every bit of them. My little one proceeded to chomp away at the entire rice ball; however, my older one ate half of hers, and said she wasn’t hungry. I reminded her how she had just told me she was SO hungry, so she really needed to finish the onigiri to ensure she could focus at school. She nodded, and finished the other half.
Must. Set. Alarm. Ten minutes. Earlier. and NOT. Snooze!