A childhood devoid of school lunches and VBS

I’m deliriously happy that I have a solid 10-week break before I have to pack another school lunch.

I have calculated that in my mom lifetime (that can be counted in dog years) I’ve made close to 10,000 school lunches. OK, wait, that sounds wrong. It has to be more like 1 million because my children have almost never purchased a school lunch. In fact, my son’s two claims to fame are 1) he had a childhood devoid of Vacation Bible School and 2) he never bought food in the school cafeteria.

Yeah, I know I need to back up just a little bit and address the Vacation Bible School issue since it came in at No. 1. It’s not like I’m a heathen or anything or even heathen adjacent, but I feel like Vacation Bible School let me down. I did all the VBS due diligence. I volunteered. I cut out and laminated literally hundreds of cows for the “Biblical Barnyard Roundup” and decorated so many sugar cookies in the shape of a toucan for the “Jesus Jungle Safari” that it led to a flare up of my carpal tunnels.

You know that icing bag with the No. 2 decorating tip? Well, it’s basically a torture device and should come with a prayer hotline and workers comp coverage. All this is my way of saying I paid into the system and then when my kids were of the appropriate age to partake of Vacation Bible School, the rules changed.

No longer was VBS, in it’s most simplistic and realistic terms, a couple of hours of free summer babysitting where a harried mom could drop off her kids and seek spiritual guidance in the sanctuary known as Target. Nope, somebody or bodies, decided that it would be a great idea to include/force/shame parents into participating with their children in a family VBS.

Why would anyone want to mess with the longstanding tradition of VBS as a much-needed “Oh my God, is school ever starting again?” parental drop and go? I, of course, asked this question and got some disapproving looks, especially when some church mama preached, “Don’t you like spending time with your children?”

Was this a trick question because the answer was, of course, no. Who likes their children by the third week in July? Well, that bit of honesty didn’t go over well. I got some judgment that was Old Testament in nature and left me with only one recourse: boycotting VBS.

Sorry for the over-share, but never fear, I’m now moving on to item No. 2 — the school lunch. My kids aren’t picky eaters. Their desire to never eat a lunch prepared at school has nothing to do with advanced taste buds and everything to do with not wanting to stand in line to get their lunch. They wanted to head straight for the table and start eating their cheese and crackers.

If you’re curious about the cheese and crackers it’s because my kids, to this day, will not eat a sandwich that’s been in solitary confinement for more than 10 minutes. I don’t really get it. All I can say is that it’s something about how the bread and meat interact after socializing beyond a, “Hello, honey roasted turkey. How’s the family?” As a mom you can’t even attempt to apply logic to the situation. You just have to roll your eyes and move on.

When I started out packing school lunches it was easy-peasy. I could have sent my son to school with a jar of mayo and a spatula and no one would have cared as long as it was Hellmann’s. By the time my daughter started kindergarten, lunches had become a parenting statement. God forbid if you packed a Smuckers Uncrustable; if you ever resorted to a Lunchable, be prepared for a home visit from CPS.

It’s not just the food politics, it’s also that lunches have been elevated to an art form. There are mothers out there sculpting sandwich and fruit into a food story. I have a theory that the moms who post pictures of their kid’s lunches on Instagram are probably so worn out from crafting tofu on gluten-free pita sandwiches to resemble the cast of Angry Birds that they go undercover at the McDonald’s drive-thru to get dinner. You know what’s fun besides seeing the snobbiest lady you know getting a pedicure at Walmart? (And trust me that’s hard to top.) Catching an all-up-in-your-business organic mom at an out-of-neighborhood McDonald’s ordering a chicken McNugget family value meal.

It’s those kinds of simple moments that bring joy. Combine that with the summer freedom of not packing a single lunch or enduring VBS church lady shade, and you’ve got me smiling ear to ear.

This story was originally published May 24, 2016 at 2:28 PM with the headline "A childhood devoid of school lunches and VBS."