This is really Tara's story...

My friend Tara works at a community center in California. I know, I know, I don't think she should be working that closely with children either, but apparently she's quite good at it. Right now the summer day camp is going on, which means a lot of kids are dropped off by parents who just don't know what to do with them. Among those who come to the camp are a pair of 4-year old twins with a mother Tara describes as a Barbie that has seen better days. But it isn't the woman's appearance that worries Tara, it's what she gives her kids for lunch.

The first day of camp the kids arrived with a bag of croutons -- oh, and a Diet Coke. Now, I know that on some nights when I don't want to cook opening up a bag of croutons seems like a perfectly reasonable dinner. And if I put our ranch dressing as a dip, Ryan agrees. In fact, after hearing Tara's story I craved croutons for about four hours. Parmesan croutons to be exact. But I digress. Apparently thit is not a balanced meal for young children.

The next day the kids arrived -- and their lunch had a bit more variety. One had Doritos while the other had Funyuns. Oh, and another Diet Coke. I know some people who survived college on a similar diet, but again, we are talking about children. And I doubt either wants to stay their present height. Tara decided to say something to the woman, suggesting that maybe she might want to put more consideration into what she packed her children for lunch. The woman was apparently incredulous, protesting that would mean going to the grocery store, which she just couldn't manage that week. But she would try next week.

By Monday of this week, after hearing the stories from Tara, I waited with bated breath to find out what they had brought for lunch. Would she make a total transformation and send them with sandwiches and pieces of fruit? Or would she just go a little healthier with a bag of Baked Lays? Finally, the answer came. The kids were there -- with a pound boxes of strawberries. Oh, and a Diet Coke.

This has now become my obsession. I wake up every morning excited about the bizarre lunches these kids might bring. Ease seems to be the key, so I think of them showing up with a gallon jar of three bean salad, or a whole roasted chicken from the grocery deli. Either would truly make my day. After all, if this woman has children -- how bad of a parent could I possibly turn out to be? When my children eventually are yelling at me how much they hate me (and I know it will happen) I can shout back "Well, at least I never fed you croutons for lunch." And I will feel vindicated.