I've become my mom

I have packed my own snacks and meals for airplane travel, for at least ten years now. Now necessarily as a cost saving measure, but instead, because I am so picky about eating airport and airplane food. And especially now, since American Airlines never feeds you, unless you are basically flying for like 25 hours in the air without stopping. So for our return trip to New York, we packed two oranges, some Crunchitos®, a package of cheddar slices, some Turkish apricots and some Ryvita®. And for dessert, dark chocolate with orange. Only once the food was spread out on the table in the airport's food court, did I notice that we packed ALL orange foods. I am not sure how this happened.

(We were supposed to have a jar of organic Hazlenut-Almond Butter, but the cold as ice security woman at the Vancouver Airport tossed it into the rubbish bin, along with my entirely full bottle of Volvic water. This put me into such a serious funk, that it made me want to freaking hunt down Bin Laden himself since I am holding him and his stupid Al Queda cronies responsible for these ridiculous airport security rules. No nut butters on the plane?!)

Anyway, it remined me of how when I was younger, my mom and dad always packed us lunches when we traveled. Salami sandwiches and sometimes, chipped ham sandwiches, packed in the trusty green Oscar cooler. I sort of hated that we always brought our lunch, wishing for McDonald's happy meals that I could never finish. And there was something nice and cozy about having our own little picnic of quasi-nutritious food, right there in the McDonald's food court. And I realized that I am going to embarrass my kids the same way my aprents did, by packing travel lunches — and then 25 years later, my kids will see the light, and embarrass their own kids in the same way. And that thought made me happy.