5:10am the alarm blared and King Ralph sprung up in bed to ask what was going on. I wearily replied "it's time to make "bandwiches". Insane I tell you. Sandwich making before the sun rises.
What turned out to be even more insane was the moms who were all coiffed for "bandwich" making. Sandwich making at the crack of dawn was not an obligation I felt I needed to present anything more than my natural side. I slithered into the jeans I wore Friday, brushed my teeth and tossed a cloth headband into my unbrushed hair. I slipped my gnarly unpedicured feet into my favorite black Old Navy flip flops--caring not a bit if lettuce and tomato grimed my feet.
I entered the school cafeteria at 5:30am to a long sign in line and blasting music. So if I wasn't awake before I passed through the doors I was shocked awake by the mere volume of Journey and Meatloaf, then I backed it up with a couple of caffeinated diet Pepsi's. I avoided any job assignment that required hair nets and rubber gloves and took to the quality control. I made certain the correct number of "bandwiches" were in each bag. M however looked like the cafeteria fashionesta in her hospital blue scrub top, hair net and rubber glove while she helped to build nearly 2300 bandwiches.
Then it was time to deliver the bad boys, I mean poor boys, I mean sub sandwiches, I mean BANDWICHES! Feed back: complete customer satisfaction.
Here I am at 6pm ready for bed on a Saturday night. I am comfortably cloaked in my PJ's not caring for dinner due to pure exhaustion. All I can think about is how much fun it will be to make "bandwiches" in December. Because if I won't be tired enough from decking the halls I will be from sandwich making in the school cafeteria.
Holiday party hosting? I'll, I mean M, cater your main course. Call me!