Cutting the crusts of the Sandwich....so to speak

As the fourth of five children, I think I can safely say that by the time it got around to rearing me; Mom was exhausted.  Lunch pails were usually filled with PB & J slapped between two hunks of homemade bread.  Sometimes there would be chicken salad,, tuna salad, or just PB or J slapped between two hunks of bread. 

At lunch time, friends would open up their lunches and nibble on sandwiches cut into halves, or quarters, some with crusts cut off or sometimes the only child girl would have sandwiches cut in the shape of hearts. 

On special occasion's, church functions, ladies meetings, baby showers, wedding showers, or visiting Priests or Nuns, Mom would pull out the Wonder bread, mix things like celery and green onions, salt, pepper and paprika would be added into the salad and the sandwiches would be cut in ways that made heart sandwich girl look unloved in comparison. 

Being my Mothers daughter, Stus dinner usually consist of a handful of pellets in a bowl, more botanical hay on a plate, refill of the water bowl (with some cranberry juice in the water) and his salad: some lettuce (usually endive), some dandelion leaves, 2 or 3 collard or kale leaves, 2 or 3 leaves of some sort of choy, a few carrot tops, some dill and some parsley. None of it is cut up just put on a plate or a bowl and served up to him.  He never complains, he eats it all, and appreciatively shows up for more the next day.

Today at the grocery store I notice that Spring salad Mix is coming up to its best before date and has been reduced by 50 percent.  It has been a long week and I don't want to have to go to the vegetable market after work but the Salad crisper is pretty bare.  So I  decide to pick up a prepackaged salad for Stu. 

As I am struggling to get the top off of the plastic container Stu is circling my legs in excitement.  Once the cover is off I set the container down in front of him and he picks a tiny piece of one type of lettuce, nibbles it down, selects a tiny piece of another piece of lettuce, nibbles it down, ever so gingerly. I finish making the rest of his dinner,  fill a plate with the packaged salad and put the container in the fridge.

Stu reminds me of how I used to feel eating those tiny sandwiches my Mom used to make....I didn't need a sandwich with crusts cut off to know that Mom loves me but they did make me feel special every now and then.