School dinners v packed lunches

With the debate about children's lunches 'on the menu' again (sorry, that was appalling, I can only apologise and promise not to do it again) I have been thinking back to my school days and the offerings, masquerading as food, which we were given on a daily basis. Now I was by no means a fussy eater, but some of the dishes we were fed were quite frankly inedible. We re-christened the Spaghetti Bolognese 'minced morsels' which, if I remember rightly was a dog food. Looking back I don't think it contained a shred of beef. If we could return to the late 70s and test it I think we might solve the mystery of what happened to Shergar. By far the worst though was 'Cowboy Hotpot' a cunning but ultimately ill-advised attempt to make us eat liver. To this day offal is the only thing that I really can't stomach.

On the whole Bryn has packed lunches and, being an ASBO mum, I am probably partly to blame for the recent assertion that our children would get much healthier food if they ate school dinners. I would love him to have school dinners every day (even at the weekends in fact) as I hate the chore of making his packed lunch in the evening along with the umpteen other things I have to squeeze in as my bed calls to me. A couple of weeks ago I got off the sofa and said rather wearily to Bryn "I suppose I'd better go and get your packed lunch ready". Much to my surprise he said "I'll do it". We went to the kitchen and I cleaned out his lunch box. Then he said "Can you get me a smoothie out of the fridge?", so I did. Next came "I can't reach the Pom Bears. Can you get some down?", so I did. Then he asked "Can you get me a cheese scone and the butter out of the fridge and cut the scone in half?" So I did. It continued in a similar vein for a while longer when he finally he declared "This is easy. I don't know why you make such a fuss about it"!!!!

 

ASBO Mum

It has often been said that your best parenting is done before you actually have children and I for one hold my hands up to this accusation. Before Bryn was born I was determined that he was not going to have a dummy and that he was going to be well and truly breast-fed. Both of those assertions lasted approximately a week, though to be fair the breast-feeding thing was rather out of my control.
Next comes food. My child was going to be the one eating lots of fruit and veg, asking me for hummus and organic, unsweetened yoghurt in the supermarket and turning his nose up at white carbs and processed foods. He was going to be brought up firmly, with strict routines, no shouting and limited TV.
Forward a couple of years and he is a toddler. I am out in the street screaming like a banshee and stuffing him full of crisps and sweets in an attempt to calm him down because he is overtired on account of staying up to watch The Exorcist last night. It was following a similar scenario (by the way Social Services I lied about The Exorcist) that I gave myself the nickname 'Asbo Mum' and I have done a pretty good job of living up to it ever since!
No, on the whole Bryn is very little trouble and we get on really well. However, one day a few months ago I had clearly done something to upset him as he did not speak to me for ages. He broke his silence to inform me that he was looking for a new mummy on ebay. When I asked how much money he was able to bid and could she make chocolate brownies like mine he said "£1.76" and looked a bit crest-fallen. Needless to say he decided to stick with me, for all my faults, but at least I now know how much it would cost to replace me!