I had a rare opportunity to make just one child’s school lunch the other day.

 
I say opportunity because calling it a chore makes me want to hurl the princess lunch bag off a tall building.

 
One child’s lunch vs. three children’s lunches is slightly different.

 
I’m not trying to take anything away from my friends with one child, nor am I suggesting their lives are easier by any stretch, in fact, in many ways, life with one child is far more challenging than life with three, but making one lunch? Now that was easy.

 
I had just one sandwich to make.

 
I can hear your voices. You friends with one child. You’re all saying, “So what? Make three sandwiches, line them up, bam, bam, bam and voila! No different.”

 
But there is a difference.

 
Because one child has a UV light wand they wave over my knife and if there is a trace of mustard, I mean a TRACE of mustard, not that can be seen by the naked eye, but scientific evidence through a telescopic lens suggesting mustard once lived there, that sandwich is garbage and the knife is in the incinerator.

 
I know what you’re saying now, “Make them all the same thing. Easy peasy.” I was laughing right along with you when I had one child. “I am going to make my kids eat the exact same things, no arguments!” I pity my former, naive, mustard-loving self.

 
Then there’s the fruit. One likes apples–gala or mcintosh, whole–not cut. One likes apples–red delicious or spartan–only cut. One likes apples–anything but gala, mcintosh, red delicious or spartan, half-cut, half in-tact, cinnamon to mask the parts that will brown in the future. Time lapse photography supports this theory so we roll with it because we’re tired from having to wear scrubs when handling the mustard and having to watch the time-lapse photography youtube video.

 
Yogurt–sounds easy right? One likes Greek yogurt, vanilla, must be Activia, the short container, not the taller, nearly identical option. One likes mango, one likes apple sauce. I know what you’re thinking now, apple sauce is not yogurt. Agreed but they haven’t figured that out and I am SICK of thinking about school lunches and also we’re out of yogurt.

 
Water bottles–“Mom, my water bottle leaked all over my bag yesterday and it has princesses on it and I now hate princesses, I can’t bring that one anymore.” “Mom, Betsy dropped my water bottle yesterday and now there’s a crack in it. I can’t use it anymore.” Do you mean the one you begged me for that looks like a can so you could pretend you’re drinking pop when really you’re drinking water that you said was indestructible? “Mom, can I have Gatorade, water sucks?”

 
Just one lunch today.

 
I wrote “I love you” in mustard on her apple slices.