What's in the Bag Anyway?
Don't we all want to know what's in the brown bag? The weighted wad clutched in tiny hands--wafting ripe banana though linoleum halls-- yielding it's last bite of life on the path to Miss Love's classroom? But that doesn't get to the bottom of things....
Wonder Bread weeps grape jelly through the bag, leaving peanut butter to stand alone. It doesn't have a chance of making it farther than the cafeteria trash. Don't you smell the Twinkies sitting next to you? Oh, what you'd give to own that scrumptious gift that outlives even the best of us. What gives, but the subtle allure of the intoxicating chip across the table. Or, the mere thought of pie. The chocolate dream waiting to serve up a slice of the good life--when life was easy. A time when forks just appeared magically to rest beside your plate, on the kitchen table. And all it required of you was a sweet smile.
I don't remember much from Third grade. I think the West was won. And, trains were slow--but steady. They brought goods to others. Dreams traveled the distance. In math, we learned that something divided by nothing is... well, nothing. So anything is greater than this fact. Well, almost anything. Probably not yesterday's leftover carrot sticks.