Look, okay? I’m not ashamed to admit that my wife packs my lunch for me every day. And sure, there are days where I open that lunchbag at noon and think, “…what the hell kind of lunch is THIS supposed to be?” but I always appreciate the energy she puts into it.
Lately, Miles has taken an interest in this hallowed morning tradition, insisting (so long as time allows) to help Jaclyn put my lunch together. I’m not convinced he’s doing it for altruistic reasons though.
This morning, as I got out of the shower, I overheard them placing everything in the lunchbag, Jaclyn handing item after item to Miles and letting him fit each component in the bag.
“Here’s Daddy’s yogurt,” Jaclyn said.
“No, MY yogurt!” Miles declared, snatching the container and tossing it into the bag.
“And here’s Daddy’s chips.”
“No, MY chips!”
“And his sandwich…”
“My sandwich.”
Still, knowing Miles helped out makes the meal that much more special.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 