So this afternoon, I’m going through Morgan’s bookbag, pulling out reams of paper that need signatures, initials, thumbprints, wax seals and the like.  I find a sheet that has designated who in the class will be responsible for bringing in snacks and when.  Blessedly, our day isn’t until next week, but the planner that I am, I’m probably going to get something sooner rather than later.

I see that particular emphasis has been put on a line on the sheet stating that the snacks must be store bought.  Guess I won’t be making banana nut muffins after all.  I don’t think it has to do with allergies, though that might be part of it.  I heard from another elementary school mom something along the lines of “not everyone has the same sanitary upkeep as everyone else”.  Let’s just say, mother’s milk isn’t the milk that should be used when making baked goods for the kindergarten class. **shudder**

Anyway, I asked Morgan what kind of snack would she like for me to bring in to class.

“Potato chips,” she says, firing off a shot at me with her little hand cocked like a mini Beretta.

“Um, how about something a little bit more healthy than that,”  I suggest.

“Cheetos.” She fires off another shot at me, throwing in a wink this time.

I see that we are actually moving backwards on the healthy snack scale here.  Granted, we didn’t start particularly high, but chips to Cheetos is an epic fall. 

I’m thinking we’ll be bringing the pre-school gold standard of snacks — Goldfish, pre-packaged, individually wrapped (and breast-milk free).