Lunch is serious business

When I was a kid, you were kind of a geek if you brought your lunch to school every day. All the "cool kids" bought theirs, and the "coolest kids" bought something horrible from the junk line like a cup of french fries or personal pepperoni pizza.

I was kind of a geek and brought my lunch every day except Fridays, when I was given a couple of bucks to buy something gross from the junk line.

I distinctly remember being in middle school and being MORTIFIED to carry a hot pink lunch bag. Because even if you were kind of a geek a brought your lunch, you weren't a SUPER GEEK if you brought your lunch in a brown paper bag. I was a super geek.

(I know this sounds completely ridiculous now, but when you're eleven years old and awkward and shy and an honor roll student, you've got to try to be cool in any way you can. Hot pink lunch bags were not that way.)

I couldn't understand why my parents didn't just spring for a package of brown paper bags. I still don't understand it, to tell you the truth. They're like $1! A very very small price to pay for your child's social well-being, I think.

Anyway.

Things were about the same in high school (minus the hot pink lunch bag. I started carrying these re-usable plastic bags that were much less obvious.) Then the most wonderful of days came when I was a senior and allowed to leave school for lunch. Most of the time I went home and ate a sandwich and watched "Days of Our Lives," but sometimes I'd go out with my friends.

Now that I'm an adult, I can look back on things that used to be a big deal and see that they really weren't. Everything seems super important while it's happening, I guess. Also, now that I'm an adult, I appreciate the financial responsibility of bringing a lunch from home every day (except Fridays, which are still reserved for eating out.)

And, finally, now that I'm an adult, I can appreciate a nice lunch bag. I bought one at Target just this week. It has butterflies on it. Butterflies are my favorite. It's pretty and sturdy and stands out in the office refrigerator among the various plastic grocery bags holding others' lunches. It is awesome.



I can't go back in time and assure my eleven-year-old self that the world really isn't going to end because she's carrying a hot pink lunch bag, but I can say that the eleven-year-old inside me is a bit ashamed of herself. She loves this lunch bag, however, and that makes her feel better.

Next up: A thermos!