And he worked one day last week. Well, he does some sort of work every day, but I mean the work where he goes to peoples’ homes and works and actually makes money.
Last week, he asked if I’d make his lunch. He said “just a peanut butter and jelly sandwich will be fine”. So, I made him a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich. He checked his pail before he left. “Hey, there’s just a sandwich in here, nothing else!” Huh? Isn’t that what you asked for? He grumbled and added an apple.
So, this morning, as I made his lunch, I thought back to a story my mom told me about when she’d make my dad’s lunch. Mom worked, too, so she made both of their lunches. Dad worked at University Hospital as an X-ray technician in San Diego. He ate the lunch he brought in the cafeteria. Where you could also buy stuff. They had forks, knives, condiments and napkins.
Anyway, one day he comes home and complains to mom that she didn’t put enough napkins in his lunch. Noted. (She wondered why he just didn’t use the cafeteria napkins.)
The next day, she made his lunch as usual. It was the last lunch she ever made for him. He started making his own.
Because she did put in more napkins. Between the two pieces of bread.