The problems of abundance

Mik had a swim meet last weekend about an hour away—a good test to see if it's possible to survive on Whole30 snacks for eight hours at a time. ("Possible to survive," sheesh. Americans.) We packed hard-boiled eggs, apples, baby carrots, cold turkey sausage, nut and date bars, and sliced cucumbers. It was literally everything we had in the house that we could think to bring, and it sounds like a feast or a picnic when I list it all out like that, but it still felt kind of paltry in practice. All snack, no substance.

For Mik, we also brought cheese and a couple of the grain-free scones I've been putting in his lunchbox all year. But guess what? He hated the scones. He could barely choke them down, and did so only because I wouldn't let him buy anything from the concession stand until he'd eaten what we brought. He claims he's "tired" of scones—but foods you are simply tired of don't bring you nearly to tears, and I shudder to imagine how many weeks I've been making the stupid things only to have him trade or throw them away. He said he liked them! DOES HE NOT KNOW HOW TAXING IT IS FOR ME TO COOK CONSTANTLY? Argh. American children.

My goal for the day is to figure out something he actually does like that can be used as the new sandwich replacement. I'm just sad about the leftover scones in the freezer that can now be eaten by NO ONE in this house.