Love is a packed lunch. This packed lunch is the future (you will be hungry) meets the present (I made this because I love you and the thought of you hungry pains me) meets the past (I have always loved you. I loved you before I knew you. Love is who we are, baby, and this lunch is our history) meets the real (the apple the sandwich the effort the caring it forward: you can eat love). Love is a packed lunch.
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Well said. Simple, poetic, true.
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I love this. I should remember this more often when I complain bitterly about how I have to pack lunches every.single.day. Sometimes I even have the wherewithal to cut the sandwich with a heart cookie cutter.
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I love this too. What I particularly love is the concrete realness of it. Yes, you can eat love. That’s what it all is, all the time, love is who we are. Exactly in our concrete physical food-eating, sensation-feeling, action-taking realness. Always.
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I want to eat my husband everyday for breakfast, lunch and dinner. He fills me up. I’m going to make homemade buns for him today and serve them up at dinner with a nice Gewurztraminer and chicken cordon bleu with supreme sauce. Then we’ll have dessert.
I like dessert because it has one extra s in it. It’s a delicious dish served last. Lunch is great, but I really like dinner and dessert. Nummy. I love love.
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Agape in the mundane.
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I feel it – I live it too…the hello kitty lunch box opens to reveal the unexpected tinker bell pez dispenser… oh, lunchbox love is a two-way street.
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One of my favorite things is to pack lunch for my 5 year old daughter.
I take as much pride in hearing from her that I make the best lunches as I do in a well written article or a completed contract.
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It’s the little things that say I love you in the biggest way!
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Guess this means I shouldn’t let the 15 year old pack his own lunch. I did suggest he pack two sandwiches today as tennis practice starts after school. Isn’t that good mama stuff?
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