Grace didn’t eat her sandwich for lunch; it was past nap time, plus she was more interested in the chocolate milk. Anyway, I ate the rest and that bread, butter and rubbery processed dairy product sent my mind back to summer: specifically our annual road trips to Cape Cod.
My dad hated flying so we drove everywhere. That’s EVERYWHERE (across both sides of Canada, all over the US) so my mom had to pack a ton of food in the bright orange Coleman cooler. We’d get up super early (I was always up first) and go. I’m pretty sure we ate them at the cottage too once we were down there.
Maybe Grace didn’t eat the sandwich because she has more refined taste than that, and was looking for the old cheddar that I usually use.