How is possible that I have just packed the hot lunch for the last lunch of the school year?! It honestly feels like it was barely last week that I enthusiastically adorned Danielle’s baked beans with a Sharpied rainbow beside her name. Then the rest of the year went by in blur with mostly basic black, hastily-marked monikers on tinfoil tubs of chicken nuggets. Or maybe a slice of pizza. This child of mine is not French, and possesses thee most limited of palettes, much to my chagrin. But now here we are, at The Last Lunch. She still loves beans and she still loves anything ROYGBIV. These are the days worth cherishing. And these are the days worth getting the Sharpies out for. š
Yes! These are the days worth cherishing. Always. Thanks for writing.
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