Second Lunch
Yesterday morning was busy. It was so busy, I was 45 minutes late feeding the children their lunch. Generally, nothing short of a catastrophic yogurt shortage could make me late with a child’s meal, but the boys were sleeping, Abbie was watching TV, and we had stuff to do, so I let them go.
By 1pm, the boys were starting on solids, Abbie had finished, and no one in the house over the age of three had eaten yet. Ellie suggested we take the kids to the local big-box store and eat lunch on the way.
I’ve taken the form of a budget hawk recently as we’re trying to save for a house, but this seemed like a reasonable request. I don’t like visiting the big-box store often since we always wind up buying something we don’t need, like a squeaky baby toy or a clearanced dog toy that squeaks and could double as a baby toy. I have a formula to estimate how much we’ll spend on each trip to the store, $30 + $5D, where “D” is the number of days since our last visit to the store. If we visit every day for a week, we’ll find something to blow $250 on; if we visit once in that span, we’ll spend $50 on cleaning supplies, bathroom provisions, formula, and other essentials plus another $15 on clearanced clothing. It had been about two weeks since our last visit, which meant we were about to drop $100, but it also meant that we were running dangerously low on baby wipes.
The lunch stop was frivolous. We could have had a great cheap lunch with sandwiches made from that tub of eggless egg salad I keep in the refrigerator. Still, I felt that we had worked hard enough to deserve a $5 meal, especially since I couldn’t remember the last time we ate out. Sure, we ate out twice a day while we were out of town earlier in the week, but those were vacation meals, which don’t count.
We stopped at Quizno’s for lunch. That’s a highly preferred spot because their food is good, they’re next to the big-box store, and they send coupons approximately twice month. The only drawback is they serve sandwiches, which Abbie still doesn’t recognize as fit for human consumption, so feeding her there can be challenging. Feeding her wasn’t an issue at that time since she had just eaten at home, so we could give the boys their bottles in the stroller while Abbie amuses herself, and enjoy lunch in peace.
Except Abbie doesn’t work like that. Abbie is pretty sure that she should be eating anytime anyone nearby is eating, and that includes pets. As we settled the boys in with their bottles and ordered our food, we realized Abbie wouldn’t leave us alone while we ate. She’d poke at us the whole time, wanting to examine our sandwiches, convinced that we were hiding something edible, and otherwise reaching for our drinks.
Ellie suggested a bag of chips to keep her occupied. Actually she suggested a bag of Cheetos, which I immediately nixed after envisioning a toddler coating all nearby fabrics with a nuclear orange dusting of cheese powder residue. Wanting to be a quasi-responsible parent, I picked out something baked, and set her in a high chair with a bag of chips while the adults enjoyed a substantial meal.
I wonder what the other patrons thought of our arrangement. Did they question why our daughter was eating nothing but a bag of chips for lunch? Did they wonder how we could be so heartless while enjoying our sandwiches? Did they at least notice that she was eating something healthier than Cheetos?
After lunch, we drove the 500 feet to the nearby big-box store. Inside we burned off lunch by walking through housewares, electronics, and racks of clothing that had gone on clearance since our last visit.
By 1pm, the boys were starting on solids, Abbie had finished, and no one in the house over the age of three had eaten yet. Ellie suggested we take the kids to the local big-box store and eat lunch on the way.
I’ve taken the form of a budget hawk recently as we’re trying to save for a house, but this seemed like a reasonable request. I don’t like visiting the big-box store often since we always wind up buying something we don’t need, like a squeaky baby toy or a clearanced dog toy that squeaks and could double as a baby toy. I have a formula to estimate how much we’ll spend on each trip to the store, $30 + $5D, where “D” is the number of days since our last visit to the store. If we visit every day for a week, we’ll find something to blow $250 on; if we visit once in that span, we’ll spend $50 on cleaning supplies, bathroom provisions, formula, and other essentials plus another $15 on clearanced clothing. It had been about two weeks since our last visit, which meant we were about to drop $100, but it also meant that we were running dangerously low on baby wipes.
The lunch stop was frivolous. We could have had a great cheap lunch with sandwiches made from that tub of eggless egg salad I keep in the refrigerator. Still, I felt that we had worked hard enough to deserve a $5 meal, especially since I couldn’t remember the last time we ate out. Sure, we ate out twice a day while we were out of town earlier in the week, but those were vacation meals, which don’t count.
We stopped at Quizno’s for lunch. That’s a highly preferred spot because their food is good, they’re next to the big-box store, and they send coupons approximately twice month. The only drawback is they serve sandwiches, which Abbie still doesn’t recognize as fit for human consumption, so feeding her there can be challenging. Feeding her wasn’t an issue at that time since she had just eaten at home, so we could give the boys their bottles in the stroller while Abbie amuses herself, and enjoy lunch in peace.
Except Abbie doesn’t work like that. Abbie is pretty sure that she should be eating anytime anyone nearby is eating, and that includes pets. As we settled the boys in with their bottles and ordered our food, we realized Abbie wouldn’t leave us alone while we ate. She’d poke at us the whole time, wanting to examine our sandwiches, convinced that we were hiding something edible, and otherwise reaching for our drinks.
Ellie suggested a bag of chips to keep her occupied. Actually she suggested a bag of Cheetos, which I immediately nixed after envisioning a toddler coating all nearby fabrics with a nuclear orange dusting of cheese powder residue. Wanting to be a quasi-responsible parent, I picked out something baked, and set her in a high chair with a bag of chips while the adults enjoyed a substantial meal.
I wonder what the other patrons thought of our arrangement. Did they question why our daughter was eating nothing but a bag of chips for lunch? Did they wonder how we could be so heartless while enjoying our sandwiches? Did they at least notice that she was eating something healthier than Cheetos?
After lunch, we drove the 500 feet to the nearby big-box store. Inside we burned off lunch by walking through housewares, electronics, and racks of clothing that had gone on clearance since our last visit.
posted by Matt at
11:28 PM
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