Two slices of white bread and cheese

I made a cheese sandwich this morning, and it made me want to cry a little bit. RJ has been in preschool since August, but just two days a week and for only two hours. Last week he told me he wanted to stay with Miss Lindy at "stay and play." Stay and play runs from 11:30 until 2:30--adding another three hours to the school day. RJ has staunchly resisted. "No, I just gonna go home and eat lunch with you," is the response I usually get. 

So, why the change of attitude?

A lunch box. Tin. Decorative. Lightening McQueen. I've been cleaning house (or rather, cramming broken crayons and the random cheese-it into cute decorative boxes in order to make the clutter look prettier--cleaning is not in my repertoire). RJ's lunch box came to the surface, and I immediately filled it with paintbrushes and glue sticks. "Hey, I have a lunch box!" he yelled at me. "I can go to stay and play!"  A lunch box? That's what has been holding him up? Apparently.

So this morning, I made a cheese sandwich (American cheese, white bread--RJ has simple tastes). He told me he didn't want it cut into train shapes, and it kind of broke my heart. But then he made sure he had his Tow 'Mater apple juice box, and I was happy  that he's still my little boy. He left me at his classroom door holding a soggy umbrella and a jacket that miraculously resurfaced in the lost and found box this morning.

My little RJ is getting big. He's growing up. He wants to spend time with his friends at stay and play. It makes me happy, and my heart feels warm (except when I remember that he's eating a cheese sandwich with his friends in the lunchroom today, and I want to cry just a little bit).

For now, I'll pretend to focus 100% on a receivership and foreclosure action and hope that the phone I have propped against my computer screen doesn't ring at lunch time. I hope that two slices of white bread and a piece of cheese in a Lightening McQueen lunchbox will be enough to get my little man through his day.