Every morning each of the 500Jerk children must have a nutritious lunch packed to take to school. And life is hectic enough without having to pack two different lunches, am I right?
But look at the parameters I'm dealing with here:
1. The Sandwich Limitation. Boy Wonder likes sandwiches. Miss M, however, does not eat sandwich bread.
2. The Apple Limitation. Miss M eats apples. Boy Wonder does not.
3. The Lunch Meat Problem, Magnified by the Bread Limitation. Boy Wonder does not eat lunch meat. Except salami. Miss M, on the other hand, loves lunch meat. But she'll only eat it on crusty sourdough bread that Boy Wonder won't eat. Even if he actually had the front teeth to do it.
4. The Peanut Butter Limitation. Miss M does not eat peanut butter. With anything. Ever. Naturally, Boy Wonder loves peanut butter.
5. The Leftover Limitation. Boy Wonder does not like macaroni and cheese in a thermos. Or chili. Miss M likes both very much. She also likes re-heated pesto pasta. Which Boy Wonder will not eat.
6. The Dairy Limitation. Miss M does not like cheese. Or mayonnaise or milk or cottage cheese. Grated cheese is marginally acceptable. Boy Wonder, on the other hand, seems to subsist mainly on dairy products and air.
7. Here's Something We Can All Agree On, But It Doesn't Fill a Lunchbox. No one likes oranges. Except for those mandarin oranges soaked in high fructose corn syrup I hate to pack.
8. The Chip Limitation. Boy Wonder does not eat the blue Garden of Eatin' corn chips I buy, but Miss M does.
9. The Fruit Limitation. Miss M never eats bananas or kiwis. Boy Wonder eats both. But not pears. Which Miss M loves.
10. The Granola Bar Limitation. Boy Wonder will not eat any kind of granola bar. Miss M loves granola bars.
11. The Packable Raw Vegetable Limitation. Boy Wonder only likes carrots. Miss M only likes celery. (Although when I read this to her, she insisted that she *does* like carrots. Hmpph.)
12. The Dried Fruit Limitation. Miss M does not eat raisins. Boy Wonder does.
It's minutiae like this that's bogging down my brain so I can't remember the capital of Bolivia. Or, more importantly, where I've put my keys and cell phone down.