Because I’m such a good wife, I make George’s lunch up for him every night so it’s ready in the fridge when he leaves in the morning. Sometimes he gets some kind of cold cut, other times he gets canned tuna (though that’s probably out for most of the summer). When we run out and haven’t gone to the grocery store yet, he takes the good old standby of peanut butter and jelly.

Tonight, after getting the kids to bed – a nice and easy feat for a change, I am seriously loving the way soccer knocks both girls out promptly! – I went into the kitchen to make George’s sandwiches. I didn’t bother to turn on the big, obnoxious overhead fluorescent light, just using the little 60W bulb over the stove. I got out six slices of bread and spread three of them with peanut butter. Then I opened the jar of strawberry jam and dug a spoon in, and was about to drop it on the other three slices.

Luckily, I noticed at the last second that I was not scooping out strawberry jam. Good thing, because I seriously doubt George would be impressed if he pulled out his lunch tomorrow, took a big hungry bite, and realized I had packed him a peanut butter and relish sandwich.