My son, the lunch lady

I'm sure you all know my son, Mark, the child who groans when I ask him to make his bed and almost cries when I ask him to help with the yard work. The child who thinks "chores" mean watching the TV without an extra pillow, or actually getting out of bed on time.

That's right, the kid who my dad nicknamed "Mañana" because seriously, that's when he likes to help around the house. Mañana--always mañana.

And yet, at school it is the complete opposite. When the teacher asked yesterday who'd like to volunteer in the cafeteria, Mark's hand shot up immediately. He told me when he got home it's a good deal--he gets a free lunch every day. But I know better--he's not trying to save me money. The lure of a free cafeteria cookie was really the draw, not so much the food, which just last week he told me is "disgusting." But I was surprised he'd give up his lunch recess playtime to actually work.

"That is a good deal," I agreed. "But you were in such a rush to get to the caf, you skipped the nurse's office on your way."

I recounted how the nurse chased him down to check his blood sugar and bolus for his lunch. I reminded him that it's his duty to stop at the nurse's office, and that he must eat his own lunch before serving up anyone else's.

He agreed to follow the plan, on penalty of being fired from his day job. Losing out that daily cookie is motivation enough for him!

Then curiosity got the best of me, and I asked what exactly he did in the caf.

"I serve stuff," he said.

"What kind of stuff?" I asked.

"You know, the food--today I gave kids their burritos."

I bit my lip, and my friend Edra, who was with us, bit hers too. I think we both had the same image, at the same time--Mark in an apron, a hair net, and plastic gloves. My son, the walking fashion statement, the boy who refuses to wear shorts that don't hit below the knees, or shirts that aren't "cool"--that child of mine is donning food-service gear all for a free cookie. Now that's a serious sweet tooth!

I'll just have to see how long that cookie tides him over. I'm sure he'll enjoy it this next week, but even cookies lose their appeal when you eat the same kind everyday. I'm sure the free cafeteria lunch will lose it's appeal in a week or so, and the tug of the playground will pull at Mark soon enough.

And when it does, it'll be time for his next big life lesson--about keeping your word, and honoring your commitments, even if it means giving up your lunchtime recess or football games with your friends.

And maybe I'll even throw a free bonus lesson in there--about raising your price when you sell out. Because from where I'm sitting, a free cafeteria cookie seems a pretty low price!