The kids were tucked all snug in their beds, visions of lunchboxes packed with delicious food filled their heads ... and I was standing in the kitchen, post-work day, after supervising homework/showers/changing into PJs/picking clothes for tomorrow/eating dinner/brushing teeth/reading books, and finally tucking them in, with some help from Late Blooming Dad. But now I was alone in the kitchen, eyes scanning the fridge forlornly, searching for inspiration. What to make them? What to make them they'd actually eat some tomorrow if I made it for their lunch boxes tonight? It's then I had a vision: a vision of the Make-The-Lunch Fairy.
Our kids get visits from the Tooth Fairy whenever they lose a tooth. Why can't we weary moms get a visit from the Make-The-Lunch Fairy whenever we are overwhelmed by life, and underwhelmed by the prospect of making yet another round of lunch box lunches?
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