A Favorite Meal

I’m altering the rules on this Writing 101 assignment. First of all, it’s the assignment from several days ago. Yes, I fell behind. I’m okay with that and hope you are, too. Anyway…

Today’s Prompt: Tell us something about your favorite childhood meal — the one that was always a treat, that meant “celebration,” or that comforted you and has deep roots in your memory.

I’m writing about one of my favorite meals that happened when I was a grownup (or at least the parent of children). It was when friends were visiting.

For some reason my son decided to make lunch for our friend. He was under five, I believe, and we were all quite impressed. Out came the sandwich options, and our son went to work while we adults yakked. He proudly came over to us, bearing his delightful creation of…

peanut butter and jelly — and bologna.

Yup. PBJ and B.

When my son turned around, I quickly and quietly offered to play the magical swap out trick all parents MUST have in their repertoire. But our friend kiboshed that. The sandwich was made ‘specially for him, and he was going to eat it by golly.

How he sucked that down, I’ll never know, but it sure meant a lot to all of us. This is what I do know: That friend is now our third son’s godfather.

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