Rice Pudding: A Memory

As I was reading Tropical Velvet's blog about her daughter writing a note to herself which read: "Let the lunch ladies give you gravy," my brain stumbled upon a little jewel of a memory in "me own life," dealing with hot lunch and perhaps the beginnings of my OCD tendencies. I'll share:

Back in good ole Centralia, WA, the land of my years 0-14 (save a two-week period post-birth before my parents moved from L.A. to WA), hot lunch was actually somewhat coveted. I remember the school lunch calendars passed out each month. My eyes would quickly scan to see when burritos were being served. Yes, this is pretty pathetic, but it is the truth. I loved hot lunch burritos. I thought the kids who were on the subsidized lunch program (about 90% of the kids at my school) were the lucky ones. I, on the other hand, had to bring home-packed lunches, consisting of sandwich, apple, and a treat.

(Quick memory diversion: S, my sister, and I remember the day of shame when my mom packed us raisin bread with tuna fish sandwiches. Okay, I know that I went to a very delish Cafe Barrone several months back and actually ordered this, but when I was in 2nd grade, it didn't go over too well. Sus even remembers strategically holding the sandwich so that her fingers covered up the raisins--as if she would be the laughing stock of the lunchroom.)

So back to the burritos. They usually had burritos at least once a month, and I was allowed to take a dollar to school once per month to indulge in the Ford's Prairie Elementary School burrito. This particular memory is from 3rd grade. Burrito occupied one of the menu squares, so it was my lucky day. My mom was a little skeptical after she looked over the rest of the menu for that day, which probably looked something like:

Yummy Bean Burritos
Tasty Tater Nuggets
Fabulous Fruit
Creamy Rice Pudding

The rice pudding was where she stopped. Rice pudding at a school cafeteria? WE were definitely not a rice pudding family. In fact, I don't think I had ever even heard of the concept until that moment. She was concerned that I wouldn't like the rice pudding, and that I would waste it. But, I wanted the burrito and I wouldn't back down. I assured her that I would eat every last morsel on my tray.

So I got and gobbled up the bean burrito, tater nuggets, and fruit. But the rice pudding. Oh, the rice pudding. I sat and stared at it, ate one grain, stared longer, ate another grain, stared longer, ate . . . . . . you get the picture, until I was the last one in the cafeteria. The custodian came to mop and I was still there. He put up all of the other tables but mine and did everything else he could until my table was the last of his job. So he told me that I'd have to go---afterall, the other kids had already been at lunch recess for a good 15 minutes.

A sick sense of guilt and dread waved through my body. I couldn't throw the rice pudding away. I picked up my tray and moved it to the walk-through counter area and stood and continued, one grain at a time. Finally, recess was over and it was time to go back to class; there was no longer any choice. I had to be finished. I took a huge bite, stacked my tray, and walked, recessless, back to Mr. Dunn's classroom.

Dr. Phil--whom I never watch, although I have 2? of his books (should I be embarrassed?)--talks about finding the 10 defining moments in your life. I think the rice pudding incident might be number 9 for me. After all, next month I'll be thirty and I still remember the dread I felt that day in that crusty cafeteria--when I was in 3rd grade.

To this day, I have never had rice pudding again. I've heard it's pretty good.