, ,




One morning this week Todd was making lunch for our lovely teen daughter. She has always preferred one piece of bread cut in half with just the meat. Mom’s just know what their kids like best. My husband was making a sandwich with everything in the fridge on it with two pieces of bread. He had large pieces of lettuce, a large slice of tomato, mayo on both pieces of bread, 6 or 7 slices of turkey, a real Dagwood sandwich.   I was aghast…she doesn’t like mayonaise…or lettuce.  But I held my tongue.  She would face this alone.  Mom needed to step back as there was no sense micromanaging my husband’s sandwich production.  My daughter could just pull off what she didn’t like at school.

I envisioned her distaste as she slipped the gigantic sandwich from her lunch bag in front of all her friends.  Later that evening she called me into her room.  I expected she would quietly bemoan her mayo and meat behemoth.  But this was a meeting of another order, a monumental announcement from our formerly finicky eater who is exploring new horizons this year from cross country to choir.   In the kindest way possible she said “Mom, I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I like how Dad makes my sandwiches.  Do you think you could add all the extras like he does?”


Stepping back,