We had a terrible turnout at my 25-year class reunion a few weeks back, but it was fun catching up with the classmates who did show up. One classmate, a girl named Janey, told us something that she remembered happening in 7th grade:
Well, my lunch kept getting stolen from my locker. My mom always packed me such good lunches, usually a roast beef or ham sandwich, with some chips and a cookie and an apple. But one day my lunch got stolen, and I asked around, and no one knew who had taken it out of my locker. Then it happened the next day. And then it happened again the next day!
You know, I was sort of a spacey kid. I thought my mom would be mad that I couldn’t even keep track of a paper bag until lunchtime, so it took me about 7 or 8 stolen lunches before I finally told my mom what was happening to me at school every day.
My mom thoughtfully said, hmmmm. She wasn’t mad at me. She actually smiled a bit like she thought it was funny. She said something about finding a way to stop the lunch thief.
The next morning before school, when it was time for my mom to make the daily lunches, she took my sister and me outside to the sheep pasture and scooped up some nice fresh sheep dung. She brought the dung INTO THE KITCHEN, and spread it thick onto two pieces of bread. Then she added tomato, lettuce, and onion, then some mayonnaise, too, and she put the pieces of bread together, cut the sandwich in two halves as usual, and wrapped it up in tinfoil. Then she placed the sandwich into a brown paper bag, and added an apple, a cookie, and some chips. She handed it to me and said, here’s your lunch, Janey.
There was a pause at our dinner table. My classmates and I looked at each other, slightly bewildered. Then Janey said,
And my lunch never got stolen again!