alright problem solved!

For years I have carried the heavy weight of having sandwich issues. "Hi, my name is Misty and I hate making sandwiches."  Let me start by saying I will never live up to my mom.  She used to make a plate piled in a tier system of all kinds of crust-less white bread sandwiches, tuna w/ pickle, tuna w/out pickle, peanut butter w/ jam, peanut butter w/ honey, butter & honey, butter & jam, ham w/ cheese, ham w/out cheese, bologna... a little kids version of mecca.  My grandfather, who I very few memories of, used to make me a peanut butter, honey, brown sugar, and banana sandwich!!! How many steps is that?!?! Years later I have learn he probably did it with the same pocket knife he cleaned his fingernails with. Hmmm...still too much work. 

Most of my life I have had the patience to make exactly 1/2 of a good sandwich before I get annoyed. But sandwiches are a necessary evil of the housewife.   

My X used to accused me of trying to hex him by the way I would wipe the pb&j knife across the opposite slice of bread in an 'x'.  In hindsight I was monogramming it.   And when the nearly-growns were little I invented the idea of lunch-ables. Until they could make their own sandwiches (or get my mom to do it for them) their lunches consisted of do-it-yourself-pb&j's and a plastic knife, which the school didn't mind Alexis holding but they discourage me sending anything sharp with Conner-Boy.  "Could you just make his sandwich at home?" "Yeah-no, but how about I send a popsicle stick with him, that's not pointy, it's blunted."

   

BC isn't any happier with my sandwich skills (minus the summer I mastered the french bread deli sub completely loaded with good stuff for going to the lake).  He doesn't mind the hexing habit, he thinks I skip on the juice, you know the jam and stuff.  Well, as the laundress I have a reason to be skinny with stain makers. 

But last night trying to get out the door for movie under the stars at the state capital (10 minutes after dinner ended) I slathered a pb&j sandwich for Hungry ("nice to meet you, Hungry, I'm mom.")and in a rush looked around for something to control the drip.  Ah-ha, coffee filter!  Brilliant, let's remember this for the next time I have to make one of those nasty little things.