The Fab Hub is a lunch box master.
This is pretty amazing since when we met, the man had no idea how to pack a lunch. In fact, while we were not dating, I used to bring a few extra items in my lunch to share with him since we worked at the same place and often had the opportunity to have lunch together.
For most of our marriage so far, I have been in charge of the lunch packing. But things are different now. Now the Fab Hub is in charge of lunch for me and Kidzilla. And he’s really good at it. My only job in the process is to decide who is going to eat what and make a list for him to follow; the Fab Hub takes it from there.
He chooses the appropriate size lunch box for the meal and the person involved. He also packs items according to individual preferences, schedules, and needs.
For example, he knows I hate carrying the big, clunky Nerd Cooler that we used to use when we were packing a double lunch. So I usually get a small individual lunch box that fits nicely inside my tote bag. If my lunch request gets dangerously close to the size-limit where the Nerd Cooler is required, he lets me know. He packs precisely the right amount of soup for the amount of time I have for lunch. On tuna sandwich days, I get separated bread and tuna to assemble myself because he knows I hate a soggy sandwich. He packs a mean salad and always remembers to put the dressing in a separate container and add a plastic baggie for leakage protection.
Kidzilla generally prefers a “picky plate” lunch (learn about those here) and the Hub makes sure she has the items she likes best – carrots, salami and cheese cubes, some crackers, grapes or whatever other fruit we have, sweet pickles, and a little container of cream cheese for dipping whatever Zilla decides need to be dipped. On sandwich days, the Fab Hub uses cookie cutters to make cool shapes for her – most often a small heart (insert multi-syllable and multi-pitched awww here). As an added bonus, this generally means I have plenty of bread slices minus the shape of the heart to use for breadcrumbs or croutons. Win.
The best part of the Fab Hub’s lunches, though, has to be the lunchbox notes. My Mom used to pack lunchbox notes and I remember thinking it was pretty cool. When Kidzilla started packing lunch this year for Kindergarten, the Fab Hub stepped up and started including his own version for her.
On her first day, she got a simple self-portrait. No words, just the Fab Dad’s face.
I asked him what his motivation was and he said, “In case she missed me.” It made perfect sense, actually. When Zilla stopped going to afternoon pre-school/daycare in the spring, they spent lots of afternoons together. This summer, she was home with us all day every day. That’s a lot of regular time with the Fab Dad. I thought sending himself along to school with her was incredibly thoughtful and smart. Eating a packed lunch on your own for the first time is a big deal.
Sometimes, he includes a little greeting with his face.
(That yellow apple note was actually one of mine. Every now and then, I get a lunchbox note, too. Yay.)
Other days, he sends the Rotten Cats or even the whole family along to surprise Zilla.
Sometimes, when the situation warrants, the Fab Dad includes some words of advice for Kidzilla.
Whatever the note, Zilla really seems to enjoy the surprises and little jokes. And the reminders about eating sandwiches and listening to the teacher? Can’t hurt.
I love the connection and the close relationship they have and I pray that it continues to flourish. I hope that no matter how our lives change over the years that the Fab Dad will continue to tuck lunchbox notes in Zilla’s bag for her. Maybe he’ll wish her good luck on a math test or a school play audition. Maybe he’ll remind her to bring home a textbook to study for an exam or put gas in the car on her way home from school. I wouldn’t be surprised if he slipped in a note or five telling her not to talk to boys.
In the meantime, when Zilla brings the notes back home in her lunchbox, I squirrel them away in a safe place. Someday we’ll enjoy looking back at them and enjoying the story they’ll have to tell.
This post was previously published on The Meaning of Me and is republished here with permission from the author.
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Photo credit: iStock