Author: Emily Carter
Date: August 19, 2020
As a parent, I often find myself packing rather mundane lunches for my kids. I’m not one to create elaborate meals filled with vibrant, gourmet options. Most days, their lunchboxes contain the basics: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a yogurt tube, and a piece of fruit. Juggling four lunchboxes each day leaves little room for creativity, but I do include one special touch that adds a personal element.
Every day, without fail, I slip a handwritten note into each lunchbox. While I may not be the most artistic or patient parent, I want my children to feel cherished and remembered throughout their school day. These notes serve as tokens of my affection—sometimes they’re silly poems, simple drawings, or motivational quotes. They appear on various surfaces: scraps of paper, sandwich bags, and even directly on bananas with a Sharpie.
I imagine my children eagerly anticipating these little love notes, each one bringing joy and warmth to their day. However, this comforting image was shattered one afternoon when I was cleaning out their backpacks after school. My youngest, Alex, casually mentioned, “All my friends wanted to see the note on my sandwich bag today.” I felt a swell of pride, thinking my efforts were appreciated, until he added, “But I was a little embarrassed.” His older brother, Jake, chimed in, “Yeah, my friends think it’s babyish that my mom still sends notes in my lunch.”
In an instant, my heart sank. I envisioned them being teased at school because of my well-intentioned gestures. I had always anticipated that they would outgrow my affectionate notes eventually, but not so soon. Trying to mask my disappointment, I replied, “Alright, I won’t send notes anymore.”
Yet, sensing my distress, Alex quickly reassured me, “You can still put notes in if you want, Mom. I don’t mind.” Jake echoed the sentiment, saying, “It’s okay, Mommy. I don’t care what my friends think. They might just be jealous.”
When I probed further, they confessed it was occasionally embarrassing, but they still wanted me to continue the notes. However, as they ran off to play, I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were just saying what they thought would make me happy.
Later, as I washed out their lunch bags, I felt compelled to unzip the bottom section of Jake’s bag, which I never packed. To my astonishment, a cascade of notes fell out. He had saved every single note I had written him throughout the year—and even some from the previous year. Some were worn and faded, yet he had preserved them with care. Tears filled my eyes, but this time they were tears of joy. My notes had meant something to him; they were a tangible symbol of my love.
The next morning, as I packed their lunches, I resumed the tradition with renewed confidence. I made the notes more compact and discreet, understanding that even if they were occasionally deemed “embarrassing,” they held significance. After all, if your mom doesn’t embarrass you at least a little, can she truly be considered a mom?
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In summary, my handwritten notes may occasionally cause a bit of embarrassment, but they are a cherished reminder of my love for my children. They reinforce the bond we share, proving that even simple gestures can have a lasting impact.
Keyphrase: meaningful lunch notes
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