Hot Lunch returns

The first thing I saw when we hit the playground this morning was this:

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Yes, Hot Lunch is back despite urgings to call it “Fun Lunch” by less innocent members of the school community. Fun Lunch is good, if you care about such things as lunch. Hot Lunch is something utterly different.

It’s Hot Fun Lunch today because it’s also Sports Day. When the kids finish sack-racing and tug-of-warring and something called the shoe relay, they get to have hot pizza instead of resorting to whatever desperate mix of randomness parents like my mother put in their lunch bags. Although Fun Lunch represents a minor shakedown for money that could arguably have been spent on liquor, it gives parents a break from packing lunches and breaks up the monotony for the kids.

Hot Lunch is something utterly different.

Hot Lunch is something utterly different.

I started mentioning this to the kids this morning and was immediately shut down by our mother, who said the information was strictly need-to-know. She then put an oven mitt on my head.

Surrounded by Cuisinart swag

Surrounded by Cuisinart swag. Look how excited I am.

It was a Cuisinart oven mitt, a second generation of the failed Puppet Mitt with Silicone Grip I complained about last week, which had arrived via FedEx with a lovely note encouraging us to enjoy it along with another mitt, a silicone hot mat, a potholder, and a dish towel, all sent by Best Brands, Cuisinart’s manufacturer of said items.

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Truth be told, my parents were one hundred percent more slightly more excited than I at the arrival of free Cuisinart swag. I hadn’t written my letter to Cuisinart with any ulterior intentions of getting free stuff, you see. I was just being a jerk that day and wrote a horrible letter thinking that it would be promptly round-filed.

One good aspect of that horrible letter (aside from the kitchen freebies) was that my mum announced the end of Dry Weekdays. She said obviously I was under a great deal of stress and that she would therefore relent, otherwise I’d end up badgering everyone we’d ever bought something from and being even more of a nuisance than I was already. Booyah!

Why fun is better than hot

My parents have refused to purchase critical items including but not limited to Johnnie Walker Black Label and Goldschlager. They tell me groceries take priority and that’s just how it is.

I get the solid-foods thing; I understand that people and especially kids need to eat meals, and that it’s important not to squander our resources. I do actually like the kids, even though they get a little nutty sometimes when it comes to yours truly.

Can you tell which handwriting is thumbless?

So yes, we should feed them, which means allocating funds for Rice Krispies and apple sauce instead of my booze wish list.

But sometimes my parents waste money.

For instance, they paid the school $10 for something called Hot Lunch and then forgot about it.

According to the school, Hot Lunch means a pizza day for the kids, so they don’t have to bring a sandwich. The school collects the money about two weeks before the lunch, at which time parents check off their preferences as to pizza topping and milk versus juice to accompany it.

Urban slang defines Hot Lunch a little differently—something the grade one teacher may be aware of, given that she rephrased it in the classroom calendar as “Fun Lunch.”

Either way, it slipped my mum’s mind and she packed a sandwich anyway—a waste of resources and (I humbly point out) a small but direct hit on the Goldschlager fund.

I expect my parents to forget stuff. But I wondered how they could forget the school’s exuberant urging to enjoy Hot Lunch.

I asked my mum if she was concerned about the school providing Hot Lunch for minors and making parents pay for the experience.

She smacked her own forehead, realizing she’d forgotten all about it and exerted herself unnecessarily to construct a ketchup-and-cheese sub. This mattered to my mum, who tends to economize with her parenting efforts.

“Is it the Hot Lunch aspect of it?” I asked.

Fun Lunch,” she said.

“Because I think I’d decline an offer of Hot Lunch myself.”

“Oh, would you?”

“I would.” I was being very sincere.

“Miscreant.”

So I guess it looks like another dry day here at LBHQ.