Sandwiches

Let me preface this post by saying that I love my dad and he does a lot for my family and me. I talk about my dad a lot because he’s one of my favorite people so what I’m about to write about is more humorous observation than anything.

So yesterday was Mothers Day, right? My mom thought it would be nice if we all went on a picnic to Liberty Park. Cute Mom brought all this stuff for sandwiches; she brought fruit, vegetables, cookies, rice krispie treats and then she brought a cute little cooler for both my sister and me to take home as our gift. I remember one Mothers Day after Lisa and I gave her a gift she said in her sweet voice, “I just want to say that I think it should be called Daughter’s Day.” She may have been medicated at the time, but regardless, it was a sweet thing to say. That’s just the way she is. Always thinking of others even on a day designated for her.

We had a lot of food and she said I should call some friends to come over. So I sent a text out to some friends I thought might be around. I had two takers: Mike and Dan.

My mom loves it when I invite friends to anything so she was thrilled to have them. Mike came first, and I think my parents and Lisa, Josh and Jack were off playing in the water somewhere. But when Dan showed up, about 20 minutes later everyone had returned. I think my mom asked Dan if he was hungry and he said he was and so I walked over to the other side of the blanket and grabbed all the food, I brought it over to Dan and told him what we had available for sandwiches. My mom said something like,

“Laura, did you make Dan a sandwich?”
“Um, I brought him everything he needs.”
“Laura!” she says in a tone that implies I was being very rude.
“What? Dan knows how to make a sandwich.”

Mike made his own sandwich just fine. I always thought people preferred to make a sandwich the way they wanted it. Personally, I thought it was nice of me to bring all the food over to them. I couldn’t figure out why she was so surprised at my behavior until I thought back about a half hour ago at my dad’s behavior. Allow me to paint you a picture.

We have two blankets laid out and a chair. While Mom, Lisa, Josh, Jack and myself crawled around the ground gathering what we needed when we wanted it, my dad reigned over us in the only chair. My mom laid out all the food and during the course of about ten minutes my dad says,

“Hey Beck, can I have some grapes?”
“Mmm…Laur…a carrot and some dip.”
“Where are the chips?”
“Are those dill pickles?”
“Hey, what’s that over there?”
“Oooh, Laur. Grapes.”


My mom said, “Tom, you might actually have to join us down here at some point.”

That was before my friends showed up. But even then, my dad started asking my friends to hand him things.

“Oooh, Mike, see that? Let’s split that lemon bread.” Mike looked truly baffled for a minute and not quite sure what to do.


When Dad was ready for a sandwich my mom asked him what he wanted on his and she lovingly built him a sandwich as he listed off his choice of meats, cheeses and condiments.

So I guess my mom is used to serving people everything they need. She has always fixed my dad a plate for dinner. I wonder if it’s different seeing how neither my mom nor my dad lived on their own before getting married (with the exception of my dad and his mission). Maybe my dad was always used to having someone serve him and my mom was brought up to be the one who serves people. But I think she always did that for him and she still does it for us on occasion.

I’m not saying I don’t like serving people, I’m just saying my friends are grown up enough to make their own sandwich. But Mike and Dan, as my picnic guests, I hope you’re not offended by my not fixing you a sandwich. I am a good sandwich maker, but I saw what you came up with on your own and I thought you did just fine.