April 19, 2013

Passive Aggressive Lunchbox Notes (For Moms & Dads)

There are 5 different types of notes you can write on your kid’s lunch napkin. They are:

1.     The Affectionate Note
(Have a great day! I love you!)
2.     The Reminder Note
(Don’t forget, Grandma is picking you up from school today!)
3.     The Educational Note
(5 + 4 = 9)
4.     The “Dad Fact” Note
(Did you know the Designated Hitter was added to baseball in 1973? #dadfact)
5.     The Passive Aggressive Note
(This sandwich looks delicious. You should try eating it today.)

I’ve been leaving notes on my daughter’s lunch napkins all year, a practice I picked up from my wife who left the inaugural “Have a great first day of school!” note on my daughter’s very first school lunch napkin. It’s a morning tradition that I’ve not only embraced but also thoroughly enjoy—plus I’m awesome at it, just like I’m awesome at inventing hilarious Twitter hashtags (#biebersmellslikebutts) and growing a mustache (check out this reflection perfection).

My plan at the beginning of the school year was to rotate which type of note I wrote. If I wrote an Affectionate Note on Monday, I’d be sure to write a Dad Fact Note on Tuesday, and so forth. I also promised myself that I’d reserve Passive Aggressive notes for only the most necessary of occasions, such as my daughter forgetting to do her homework or teasing her sisters or leaving a trail of toys that would most certainly cause her parents to suffer a bad case of Lego Limp. 

Lately, though, I find the Passive Aggressive Note is sneaking its way into all the notes. I blame this on my daughter who, for all the straight A’s that she gets and all the academic achievement awards she wins at school, can’t seem to find time at lunch to eat her sandwich. She makes all sorts of excuses, including she “got caught up talking to her friends” and “they don’t give us enough time to eat sandwiches,” which we all know is absurd because it only takes about 14 seconds to eat a sandwich (#dadfact).

Now this may not seem like a big deal to you, but this is terribly offensive to me for three reasons: 1) My wife spends precious time every night making my daughter’s sandwich, time that she could easily use doing something more fun for herself like rubbing my feet; 2) The grocery store deli counter is a miserable land where souls go to die, and yet I enter that war zone each week to provide supplies for that sandwich; 3) Sandwiches are DELICIOUS. Not eating one is like spitting on a rainbow. I mean, who does that?

To demonstrate how the Passive Aggressive Note has sneaked it's way into each of the other types of Lunchbox Notes, here’s a recent set of notes I wrote in an attempt to get my daughter to eat her sandwich, not that any of them actually worked.

Monday: The Affectionate Note

Tuesday: The Reminder Note

Wednesday: The Educational Note

Thursday: The “Dad Fact” Note

Friday: The Passive Aggressive Note

OK, so most of my notes aren't really like this—in fact, most are loving notes or dad facts that my daughter actually looks forward to (and we discuss at night). But every once in a while I think it's OK to vent a little frustration in a funny way, especially when your kid is wasting a perfectly wonderful sandwich. Seriously, child: #EatTheSandwich

*Even Buzzfeed appreciates the Passive Aggressive Note -- Check out #17!


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12 comments:

Chuck said...

Hilarious

Cherie Haas said...

Love it! And by the way, I would never spit on a rainbow...

Angel said...

My note was actually for my husband (for whom I've stopped even making a lunch because he just made fun of the contents to our friends). One Valentine's Day I decided on a whim to draw a heart with lots of Xs and Os on his napkin since he always ate alone at his desk. And... that was the day he went to the cafeteria and ate with his co-workers. #yourtimingsucks

Lelina Durrette said...

My daughter sounds a lot like yours. Straight A's, Honor Roll, AP classes; the whole nine yards. She stopped eating her sandwiches in 4th grade (she's in 8th grade now). Little did we know at the time that she was manifesting early signs of anorexia, which she continues to battle to this day. Not saying that applies to your particular case, but just be aware that 'type-A' kids really like exerting control. The passive-aggressive notes are cute, just make sure there's not an underlying problem there. From one caring parent to another!

Anonymous said...

I am TOTALLY stealing this for this year's lunch box. And I'm not sweetening 'em up - we're going full-on sassy #sweetisforweeniespeanutbutterisdelicious

Anonymous said...

You could also write notes in the bread of your kid's sandwich with food coloring.
;)

Anonymous said...

I forget what I wrote specifically because it was 9 years ago, but it was something to the effect that Goldie (our dog) missed out daughter (7 at the time) while she was at school. Somehow this got translated into "the dog had died," and the next thing I knew, the principal of the school was calling asking me how I could be so cruel as to tell my daughter that our dog had died in a lunchbox note. I stopped writing notes after that.

Anonymous said...

Once when I was in high school, I decided to make my mom's lunch for her. In it I wrote her a note that said something along the lines of, "Hope you day isn't hell!" I think she liked it.

S. said...

I don't do notes because I teach at my son's school. But I should TOTALLY get my husband to do these. He would be all over the passive aggressive. Also the #dadfact

The Crazy Heads said...

I leave a note with jokes in them. My daughter shares them with her whole table, my son hides his. My favorite thing I wrote once was a spinoff from a line on The Little Rascals. "Dear Ali, I love your stinking guts. You make me happy." Thanks for sharing, you're a good dad....and funny.

Sonal G/Tumblewalla said...

I love the dad fact! And I get your frustration with the lack of eating...especially when they get home from school all ravenous, like you FORGOT to feed them!

Still LOLing at "a unicorn dies,.."

Patchi said...

I've heard the "I didn't have time to eat" a lot. At first it was the carrots, then the grapes. It got so bad he wasn't eating Goldfish. "That's the only time I get to talk to my friends" and "Lunch is too early" were the standard replies. But since my son started running every morning before school, he started asking for more food. And I'm sure he still finds time to talk to his friends.