This morning, I arose at 4:50 and set about making The Pony's school lunch. Then I made myself a sandwich, because yesterday I ate the school lunch and seemed to have contracted a case of ptomaine poisoning by afternoon. Since the #1 son does not like school lunch on Fridays, I made him a sandwich.
Actually, I made him TWO sandwiches. Not counting the first one, because the white bread had just a single spot of mold on it. Which may have made #1 call me to see if it was still okay to eat, but I know better. So I used some wheat bread to make him a bologna sandwich. There were only two slices left, so I put them both on. Then I couldn't find the yellow mustard, so I squeezed on a few lines of spicy brown mustard. Fearing that he may not like that mustard, I made him an alternate sandwich. A Hawaiian bun with processed ham. You know, the stuff that's not really ham slices, but looks like a bunch of ham chunks pressed together and sliced very thin, with about a gallon of water added to hike up the price.
I was quite proud of my accomplishment. That lunch simply oozed motherly love. Before The Pony and I left, I told #1 that I made him a couple of sandwiches. I could tell by his grunt that he was pleased with my effort.
Around about 2nd hour, in comes #1 to ask for my signature and $8.00. He was carrying a sandwich. "Where did you get that?"
"Oh, this sandwich? My friend made it for me." (Hermione, of Halloween Harry Potter fame)
"Well, isn't that special? Which one are you having for lunch?"
"Probably hers. I told you I hate ham."
"Hers looks like ham."
"Try the bologna."
"I don't know. I might have both."
He stashed his newfound sandwich in the mini-fridge, on top of the two sandwiches I made for him. During 4th hour, he came in to get his lunch. I pointed out to my class that he was taking a sandwich somebody else gave him.
"Hey, Hermione made it for me."
"You don't know what she might have put in it. My sandwiches were made with a mother's love."
"Mother's love? Since when?"
"Since this morning, when I took the time to make you two sandwiches. It's motherly sandwich love."
"That's a good one. I'm eating Hermione's sandwich."
The class turned to see my reaction. "Somebody didn't raise that boy right."
"But Mrs. Hillbilly Mom...didn't YOU raise him?"
They're a little slow on the uptake sometimes. I've got to get my timing right before I take this show on the road.