Memories of the Lunch Ladies

In my on-going efforts to save a buck, I have agreed to let Gabby eat free breakfasts and lunches at school, all courtesy of the Salt Lake City School District. Turns out they are funded to provide free meals during the summer to daycares and preschools when K-12 schools are not in session. WooHoo.

Admittedly, it is a relief to not have to scramble together a healthy lunch for Miss Gabs as we run out the door - far be it from me to be organized enough to prepare for departure the evening before! And, I have been getting to work much earlier since I am not sitting with her at school waiting for her to gobble up a breakfast bar. She usually nurses a bit early in the morning and is therefore not ravenous for breakfast - and getting her to eat in the morning at home is close to impossible thanks to the thrill she gets from hurling her food at the dogs.

So Gabby and I had become part of the Breakfast Club at her school. I would hold her in my lap and let her nibble on a breakfast bar, cheerios, yogurt or whatever else we brought. It was still our together time and helped ease my guilt of leaving her there each day. After all, I was taking the time to eat breakfast with her!

Then came word of free food and the breakfast club as we know it has changed forever, or at least until the first day of school next fall when the free food is no more.

It just so happens that we arrived at the exact same time as the free breakfast last Monday. Miss Gabs clung to me for dear life upon seeing the lunch lady. I don't know about you, but all the lunch ladies I have encountered in my life were mean and scary looking with hairy moles on their faces and hairdos held in place with enough aquanet that their hair nets were permanently attached to their heads. They also had voices as deep as Barry White - downright frightening I tell you.

My happy little Gabs was not letting go, so I decided to continue breakfast club tradition and sit with her while she ate. Luckily, the lunch lady simply drops the meals off to the school and then leaves, sparing Gabby from the scrutiny of those glaringly mean eyes watching her every bite and making sure dessert is not eaten before veggies. So I pull up a chair and prepare to once again be late to work.

Now it is not uncommon for me to find yogurt in my hair or greasy fingerprints on my skirt after breakfast club. But, they all come from Gabby and are a small price to pay for our breakfast club time together. However, our breakfast club was much more crowded on this day. Turns out pretty much every kid in the joint was also signed up for free food. And they all sit around the tables together. Just like school lunch. I was surrounded by 15 hungry, messy, possessed children - all under the age of 3. The mess they made was unbelievable. Even as an innocent bystander I was still hit by splashes of spilled milk, sticky pieces of sugar-coated cereal and the occasional flying hashbrown bit bathed in ketchup of course. So glad I wore my white blouse that day.

Sometime between the flying slop and the echo of the constantly bickering children beside me repeatedly screeching "my milk" "no MY MILK" it hit me: Gabs must forever more arrive to school before the lunch lady if there is any hope of me getting out of there before the slop hits fan so to speak.

On a related note, I now not only face the guilt of disbanning breakfast club until next fall, but also feel immense guilt at letting her eat this slop in the first place. Her daily report Monday was not all that alarming: hashbrowns, cereal and milk for breakfast; ravioli, carrots, applesauce, cookie and milk for lunch. But yesterday's report was enough to make my conscience dive directly into the guilty pool: donut and milk for breakfast; hotdog, apples and pudding for lunch. WTF???

No wonder our youth are so unhealthy. They might as well be ingesting vats of lard laced with assorted animal parts rather than school lunch. What nutritional value do donuts and hotdogs have anyway?

Interestingly enough, both daily reports also indicated that Gabs ate above average each day. Imagine that.