The Forgotten Lunch

Megan is in 7th grade. She’s a wonderful girl, but is extremely susceptible to paternal humiliation (as most junior high girls seem to be). I have a devious side, and couldn’t help myself when Megan unknowingly provided me with a perfect opportunity to embarrass her at school.

I was just about to head off to work when Megan sent me a text message about forgetting her lunch.

Being the nice, kind, and loving father that I am, I immediately located her lunch and started devising a plan to humiliate my daughter.

I found her lunch, all nicely packaged in an unassuming brown paper bag, neatly folded at the top. Picture perfect.

That just wouldn’t do. About a foot away from her lunch was a big, ugly, yellow popcorn tin we’d used for family night treats the day before — it even still had some leftover popcorn in the bottom.

It was perfect. In just a few minutes, I located some ribbon and some tape, decorating the popcorn tin to make it even more of an eyesore. It was time to deliver my daughter’s lunch to her at school.

When I walked into the office, the receptionist looked at me suspiciously. I came clean, explaining that this was my daughter’s forgotten lunch, and that I was duty-bound as a father of a junior-high-aged girl to deliver this in the most humiliating way possible. The receptionist loved it. She was laughing as she wrote Megan’s name on it and told me she’d make an announcement to have Megan come pick it up between classes.

Megan had read my text message, and was curious about what it meant. When the class period ended, Megan heard her name called summoning her to the office. She walked into the lobby and saw the decorated popcorn tin from about 40 feet away. She knew. She walked away and just went to her next class, leaving her special lunch container just sitting in the office for the last period before lunch. She needed to figure out what to do.

Megan met her friends at lunch and told them of her plight. She was just going to leave it in the office all day and skip lunch. Her friends giggled about how embarrassing this whole thing was, but eventually offered to escort Megan to the office to pick up her lunch. Strength in numbers. Megan made one of her friends carry the container. She was too embarrassed. But now at least she had a lunch to eat.

After eating lunch, Megan continued our conversation by text message.

I was at work and got a good chuckle when she sent me the “I hate you” text. I had succeeded.

Unfortunately, my plan of having to force Megan to walk around with a giant ugly popcorn tin all day was thwarted by my wife, who knows all too well what it’s like putting up with me. Megan convinced Manina to come to the school after lunch and pick up the popcorn tin to take it home. I wasn’t disappointed that Manina bailed Megan out because my purposes had already been accomplished. Megan won’t be forgetting her lunch any time soon. And, if she does, she won’t be calling on her dad to do her a favor.