Lunchtime Lessons

Many kids, when pressed to answer the question: What is your favorite subject?, will answer with Lunch. And for a variety of reasons. Most will tell you it’s because they aren’t in class. Some will say it’s because they get to hang out with their friends. Others--especially those with a car or with a friend who has a car--because they get to leave school and grab a Tommy’s Special or two burgers, a large fry, a future triple by-pass and a large diet soft drink (since we need to pay attention to our figures). Another reason is because the kids are growing and are, well, basically, hungry.

But there are so many lessons to be learned at lunch. Mostly along the social lines and not necessarily having anything to do with the classroom...unless you count copying homework as having something to do with the classroom. The lessons we learn, however, are still lessons...and lifelong ones at that.

For example, when I was two I learned that dropping my face into a bowl of pudding made people laugh. I also learned that my mom could go from a doting “Oh, you’re so cute” to a stern “Ok, that’s enough!” in about 0.6 seconds.

As a young child visiting my grandparents in Arizona I learned that eating zucchini and/or asparagus is a form of coercion performed by parents/grandparents that should have been addressed in the Geneva Conference. Alas.

In grade school I learned how to make deals. “I’ll trade you that Zebra Cake for my Nutty Bar.” (This blog entry is sponsored by Little Debbie).

In the fourth grade I learned to only make bets you know you can win. I won $7 from my friend and locker partner, Jarod. By the way, Jarod, you never paid up and the juice is still running some 30 years later...AND...I know where you live.

In the sixth grade I learned that turning the lights off in the cafeteria to make all the kids sing “ooooohhhhhhhh” in unison not only lands you a date in Mr. Anderson’s office, but also scars your permanent record with “Cafeteria Suspension: One Week.” That’s perhaps why Yale never called.

In the seventh grade I honed my point guard court vision skills. Not by playing basketball but by keeping my eyes open and seeing every possible angle of a possible bully attack.

I also learned it’s easier than you think to mix up chicken breast with my grandma’s dog’s cow hearts. Don’t ask. Let’s move on.

My senior year in high school I ended up being the only guy from my “clique” to have lunch with the majority of the girls in our group. I learned enough that year to where I could have skipped the first two years of gynecologist school. I’m still scarred.

And today I’m still learning. But this time my son is teaching me.

I’m learning that sitting up straight to get a mouthful of food is overrated.

I’m learning that a variation of that old toy “Sit and Spin” exists. It’s called Spit and Smash. This is where a child of, say, 11 months, spits his food out onto the table (a floor can also be a viable option here, for those of you playing at home) and starts smashing it around with his hands. Fun for the whole family!

I’m learning that we can all save money by no longer buying hair gel. Any food product can be run through the hair to derive any style of preference.

I’m learning that when a baby coughs and spits a bit out, that’s fine. When said baby coughs and spits enough out to the point where he notices this wonderful process it’s as if they are enlightened and heavier coughing ensues, added by dash of laughter and a touch of joy, and usually an esophagus propelled carrot ends up somewhere in the vicinity of me.

I’m learning that kids don’t need computer games to improve their hand-eye coordination. They just need a spoon full of goo to swipe at. I'm beginning to think he actually aims the goo at me like a good hitter going opposite field.

I’m learning that a tired child rubs his eyes when he’s tired. (Actually I knew that). But I’m also learning that a tired child who happens to be eating somehow feels the instinctual need to rub his mouth first then his eyes. This of course leads to eye lashes swimming in noodles or mashed potatoes.

I’m learning I don’t care that people look at me funny for wearing the same shirt for the past three days. What’s the point? He’s just going to laugh, cough or sneeze whatever’s in his mouth on me anyway.

I’m learning that making a baby laugh to get their mouth to open can cause one of two options. Option 1: Baby laughs adorably, baby opens mouth, food goes in. Option 2: Baby laughs adorably, baby opens mouth, food goes in, baby continues to laugh adorably, projectile laughing ensues. Usually option two wins out.

And that’s when I look at my son longingly into his big blue eyes, smile, laugh with him and dote, “Ooohh, you’re so cute”...followed by a stern “Ok, that’s enough!” about 0.6 seconds later.