School Lunch Memory

Image Credit: visualphotos.com

Image Credit:
visualphotos.com

I looked at my mother in alarm, trying to read her face.

“Could this be true?” I thought, “No, it can’t be!”

“I saw you through the window, so you’d better tell me the truth. Did you eat all of your lunch today?” my mother sternly asked me.

I shuddered in revulsion, unable to get past the mental image of my mother standing on the trashcans outside my school lunchroom, as she peeked into the windows to see if I had eaten my lunch. Then, in utter humiliation, I shook my head in shame, praying no one had seen her.

© 2014
Cheryl A. Showers

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This post was written in response to Velvet Verbosity’s 100 Word Challenge — Lunch.

Image Credit: Velvet Verbosity

Image Credit:
Velvet Verbosity

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13 responses to “School Lunch Memory

  1. My worst memory of school lunches was first and second grade when we HAD to clean our plate or be made an object lesson in front of everyone. However, after those years, I have to say that I enjoyed my school lunches. And by the time I was in junior high, I loved them. I think it was all that sugar and starch. Yum!

    • LOL – at the time it wasn’t very funny, but now, it’s a funny memory. My mother didn’t really peek in at me, though she was very convincing at the time. I was just young enough and gullible enough to believe what she said, and the mental picture was bad enough.

      As for my daughter, hers was by far the worst experience, and you can rest assured that after her mama bear talked to them, they allowed her to go to the bathroom when she needed to do so.

      Thanks for reading and commenting.

      Blessings,
      Cheryl

    • LOL – Now that I’m a grown woman, it’s funny, though at the time it wasn’t. And yes, my daughter’s story was by far the worst school lunch experience. Thanks for reading and commenting. 🙂

  2. Here’s my “heartfelt response” to this story:

    I remember the brunch for lunch that dreadful day in sixth grade. It was the sausage patty that gave me the most horrendous gas pains my 12-year-old body had ever felt. It was after that “lunch” (poison is more like it) that I returned in agony to my chorus class. After begging to go to the restroom and being denied,permission by an ill-discerning teacher, I eluded my obedience and made a mad dash to the restroom anyway. Stupid school rules – did I really have to use the 5th and 6th grade bathrooms down two flights of stairs and down 3 never-ending hallways? Why oh WHY couldn’t I just use the 7th and 8th grade bathrooms right around the corner? Having a healthy fear of the principal’s office, I decided I better abide by the ridiculous policy. As quickly as I had been forced to scarf down my lunch, that sausage patty was racing even faster to make an exit. That was the day I pooped my pants in school. And that, Mother, was much more humiliating than the thought of a dumpster-climbing, lunch police mom! 😉

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