So after all that lunchbox talk, Ezra decided that he DID want to buy lunch at school after all.
He decided this on Thursday but didn't tell me. Instead, he simply "forgot" his lunchbox at school, on purpose. Because he figured no lunchbox = no lunch from home = buying lunch at school = PROFIT.
But he didn't tell me the "on purpose" part, and still made no mention of wanting to buy lunch until Friday morning. I handed him an older, back-up lunchbox and was in the middle of reminding him to bring BOTH lunchboxes home when he promptly lost his shit.
HE HAD A PLAN. A PERFECT PLAN. WHY WAS I RUINING HIS PLAN.
I usually float the idea of buying the school lunch to Noah a few times every year, once the lunchbox fatigue really kicks in and we're out of milk boxes and I'm making sandwiches using the end pieces of the bread because that's all that's left. An emphatic NOPE is always the response, which I guess is fine because I haven't really heard much praise for the school food, and I know Noah would ignore every available option that wasn't pure starch-n-cheese.
(Their school's website has photos of some of the selections, and I'm pretty sure I've seen more appetizing food styling on Orange is the New Black.)
But Ezra was up for the adventure of trying something new. He really wanted to get in the Buyer's Line* and get his own tray and pick his own lunch items.
He just caught me off guard, and completely out of any damn cash. So I explained that hey, SORRY, but I packed lunch for you today and I will sign you up for the lunch money account onlinely thing later today so you can buy lunch next week.
He was so mad at me, you guys. I'm guessing that day's sandwich was the worst one ever.
I did track down the district's lunch money account onlinely thing (technical term) and started to create an account for him but stalled when it asked for his student ID number. Which. The hell if I know. I think I have it around here somewhere but I'd have to dig through a lot of paper and get off the couch and meh, I'll do it later.
SO. ANYWAY. WOW THIS STORY IS JUST A MADCAP ADVENTURE OF ABSOLUTELY NOTHING HAPPENING, HUH. Ezra asked last night if I'd set his account up so he could buy lunch. I hemmed and hawed and said something about needing to find his ID number first but that I would, promise.
"Oh," he said, and then clearly wanting me to drop the bullshit and get this lunch thing finalized: "My teacher told me the number is...9...8...6."
Jason and I both snorted at the adorable earnestness of this completely made-up lie. He's been doing this a lot — if you ask him a question he doesn't know the answer to, he will make something up and then deliver it with as much authority as a five year old can muster.
Ezra, did you ask your teacher when you'll start getting homework? Oh, yes. She said homework starts next July.
Ezra, where are your shoes? Oh, yes. A bully stole them and lost them. They're gone. They're in the sewer now.
"No," I chuckled, "That is most definitely not the number."
He stood there for a second.
"STOP LAUGHING," he ordered, and then ran upstairs to his room.
Oooooohhhhhhhh snap and burn. I'm sorry, kid. This lunch thing is really, really important to you. I get it.
I couldn't find his ID number, but I did find two dollars and fifty-five cents this morning. I put it in an envelope labeled "EZRA'S VERY OWN LUNCH MONEY!" and drew some smiley faces on it for him. This delighted him to no end.
So I guess we'll see what he thinks of the actual food. Don't disappoint him, cafeteria staff! This is apparently a very, very big deal for him.
*One time I forgot to pack a milk box in Noah's lunch, so his teacher spotted him some money to purchase milk at school. Every morning after that day, Noah would ask if I remembered his milk box and express relief that I did. "Otherwise there will be MILK FIRE," he'd explain. "I don't want there to be a MILK FIRE!" Which...the hell? Milk Fire? This went on for months until one night the translation suddenly hit me and I bolted up in bed and hollered MILK BUYER! out loud and scared my husband and the pets. This was a deeply satisfying moment in my life.