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mommy
mommy makes my lunch | |
This is a service you sign up for. It's for people who can't
make
up their mind what to eat. In the morning you get three
brown bags. This is the food Mommy Inc. has picked for you.
Allergies and vegetarian options are taken in to account but
not much
else. You get something different every
day. (there is a
cycle of about 40 selections for each meal) The food is
nutritionally balanced and fresh. It's made in bulk. Everyone
in
the program eats (basically) the same thing to minimize
production costs.
Now just like a free wheeling 5 year old you no longer need
to
plan meals or pack lunches. Mommy has you covered. If you
don't like something Mommy says "deal. just try it and you'll
like it" or "there are starving children in africa..."
"besides we'll have something else tomorrow"
"you can't always get what you want"
"come on cabbage is good for you"
And indeed it is!
If you do not eat the greens in your lunch no desert is
delivered with dinner the next day.
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Brown bags? Brown bags! Whats wrong with a packed lunch box, mutch more sturdy. |
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[futurebird] doesn't say much, but when she does, she speaks with wisdom. |
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/no desert is delivered with dinner the next day// |
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you get a jungle instead.... |
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bliss: I was actually refering to a metal lunch box. |
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Metal lunch box!? Luxury! |
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Back in my day, we had to walk fifteen miles to school, bare foot, in the snow, uphill, both ways. And did we have lunchboxes? Did we hell! We didn't even have lunches. |
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//we had to walk fifteen miles to school, bare foot, in the snow, uphill, both ways. And did we have lunchboxes? Did we hell! We didn't even have lunches// you had it easy, we had to walk 25 miles to school with bare feet, over a mountain range and crossing thick jungle watched closely by mountain lion. we only had water. |
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Water, Ha! We had to drink our own urine, filtered through and old mans moustache. |
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Ha! Back in m_y day, we had to shoelessly wade through thigh-deep sand drifts on our way to Mt. Lion, where rain, sleet and snow intermingled with rocks and garbage pelted us throughout our 26.2 Mile journey to be schooled in our walless, ceilingless, plumbingless thornpatch (which was encircled by rattlesnakes) by Sister Lefty and Sister Knuckles (don't even get me started on Mother Superior). At the end of the 10-hour recessless, lunchless school session which was held 7 days a week - we waded through the blizzard which had created snowbanks which were now at the very least, chest-high back to our boiling hot humble abode through the gloom of night - always taking care not to attract the attention of bears and panthers again. Since the snow in Tornado Valley was inedible, as it was the result of acid rain - whoever was left of us washed what was left of our bare feet/stumps in our own urine, lapped the contents straight from the puddle with our swollen tongues, woiked for 8 backbreaking hours for no compensation, sometimes washed our feet/stumps and "ate" again - then turned around and went back to school after another sleepless night to face the wrath of Mother Superior because the only thing concealing any part of what was left of our raw flesh was scabs and festering boils. |
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Ha! after 25 hours up a dark sooty chimney, eating
nothing but coal dust and drinking sweat, and the odd
tear, we returned to the daylight to brush down our
clothes, put our heads on the pavement for 5mins then
back up the shaft. ... School? Lunches? |
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Someone had fire - even prior to your birth? |
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A luxury I suppose, but we still had change for a bag 'o'
chips and the bus fare home. (Once a week) |
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Bus?! You were lucky...
(Sorry, I've started it again) |
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mommy? what crap name! for a start it should be mUmmy (see americanisms thread!) |
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anyway, just learn to cook. my mum is a wicked cook but i am now better because she taught me and i improvised. a bit like kungfoo but edible..... |
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Can't top thumbwax. Didn't even have feet, sometimes. |
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By high school, packed lunch from Mommy was a thing of the past, being as how us Juniors and Seniors had jobs and were driving cars. So we ate in the school cafeteria. This is where we first learned to complain about cafeteria food. |
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This undercurrent of complaint, even from teenage metabolisms, which ingest and digest at lifetime peak, eventually resulted in the great peanut butter sandwich revolt. It started with my pal Danny, who's upbringing and tastes were more refined than my own, and being the child of an entrepreneur, knew not to take any guff from any source. So he took one bite of the diagonally cut, cheap white bread, crystallized peanut butter sandwich (still not sure what process the school district used to transform something like peanut butter into something that was not to be seen again until Space Shuttle experiments with protein crystal growth) made a face, spit out the bite and threw the two half sandwiches on the table. I and all the other guys at our table immediately and wordlessly followed Danny's example. Then so did adjoining tables. And within a few minutes so did all the other tables. And so did all the other lunch break shifts of kids with their non-optional portion of crystallized peanut butter sandwich. By the end of the day's lunch periods, the entire table was mounded to about 30 cm height. The schoool principal got on the P.A. system and made some threats about whoever did this and that they'd better not do it again. Turns out he called out the troops--the entire first string of the football team to carry the 'happening' away to the trash, one plastic cafeteria load at a time. |
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A few years ago, when I revealed who started it, on a website devoted to my alma mater, and long after Danny's death in a car wreck, one and only one classmate responded, berating me--didn't I realize that there was a war going on in Viet Nam at the time and shouldn't I have been more respectful of that, yada yada yada. |
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So, yes, Mommy, Inc., can become the purveyor of school cafeteria lunches and end the choke hold that current food suppliers have on school lunch. No more ketchup as vegetable. Bring it from home and learn how to barter like a true entremanure! |
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When reading a British book to my son, I always stumble over that "mummy" word before pronouncing it "mommy" - I mean do you really say mUmmy? |
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I still can't eat baloney sandwiches (on white Wonder bread with "salad dressing") or cornflakes (she used to mix it with leftover rice crispies). |
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oh what laughs we had, when it came to studying the ancient egyptians at school. queen mom, just doesn't sound right does it? |
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Your 'aw wrong. It's pronounced "the aud dear". Clearly. |
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Aye, and thur no called 'lunches.' They're "play pieces." |
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"Dear Mommy: Thank you for the yummy and nutritious breakfasts you make for me every morning. Could you maybe not pack them in a paper bag though? My bag of oatmeal doesn't usually last the entire subway ride to work..." |
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//like a free wheeling 5 year old // |
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I suppose the 5-week-old service option would be *much* more expensive? |
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I'm shy. I always read all the annotations. In playwriting
class you were not allowed to talk while people made
comments on you play-- maybe it's that old habit... |
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//do you really say mUmmy?//
Oh, yes. And in some regions, even "Mammy". |
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It's 'mummy' over here because it abbreviates 'mother', which is pronounced mUtther.
may I point out something else; 1. there are starving children a lot closer to home than Africa.
2. there are children who don't have the opportunity of going to school at all, 25-mile walk or not, so never mind the paper bag/lunch box debate.
3. I thought this idea was just about baked by the works canteen - never anything you like, dubious nutritional content, poor presentation, bulk production.
I'm still scarred by the yukky yogurts I was sent to school with, and the thrashing I got when mum found one at the top of a very full playground bin on a Parents' Night visit. Somehow she knew it was mine. |
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this is a great idea, we already have it here but delivered rather than take it with you. it's a 4 day a week service, and you can pick what you want or get on the randomizer, delivered to your office or home and billed monthly. how lucky are we? |
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A good mommy caters assiduously to the tastes and nutrional needs of each of her individual children. A really good mommy brings home a variety of good stuff, and lets her children scrounge as they please. A really really good mommy dies young. A really really really good mommy does not exist.
A bad mommy brings home bad stuff. A really bad mommy forces her children to eat whatever is placed before them. A really really bad mommy gives moral reasons. A really really really bad mommy produces children like the poor thumbwax.
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(Luckily I moved out of the way just in time to avoid being hit with the gauntlet being thrown down) |
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I can think of better "mommy" type services, like my laundry, breast feeding, etc. but I have to admit a pre-made lunch can be very handy. |
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40 selections per meal!?! |
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My brown bag was bread and baloney plain and an apple juice box. Even an Ethiopian would maintain a distended belly on those rations. |
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Who was was your mother, an Iron Chef Champion? |
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Mommy as we say it in the U.S. is probably directly from mama, not mother. Mama being how a baby might talk, rather than "muhmuh". Could also be Italian, but my knowledge on those guys is pretty slim so I wouldn't swear to it. Some people might also spell it as "momma". Anyhow, point is, even the Beatles say mama, and mommy is really from that, not mother. |
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Queen Mommy sounds pretty good, makes her sound like a really nice lady who makes sandwiches cut diagonally, served with a nice glass of milk :) |
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