Part one of “Planet of the Jakes: Chicken patties” can be found here. You may want to do yourself the solid and read it if you haven’t already. And I’ll know if you haven’t!!!!
On with the show. This is it:
After a few days, Jakob’s ham sandwiches started showing up in his school bag again. So much for my declaration. I grabbed the lunch from his school bag and tracked the little bugger down. Jakob!” I called out, opening the door to his room.
“Yes, Fadder?” he replied, sitting on his bed, not taking his eyes off the TV.
I held up his crumbled lunch bag for him to see. “You’re still not eating your sandwiches.”
“I told you, I don’t like ham sandwiches.” He replied, still watching tv.
I rolled my eyes at him. “What are you gonna eat for lunch, then?”
“Chicken patties.” He replied. “I want to have chicken patty sandwiches for lunch.”
“Fine. I’ll buy you chicken patties.” I said, pointing a very frustrated finger at him. “You best eat them, though!”
“I will! I will!” He reassured me.
“Whatever.” I replied, turning to leave his room. I don’t know why I gave a shit. He’d get tired of eating cold chicken patties, anyway. It was just a matter of time.
“Jesse!” My mother yelled at me through my cell phone a few mornings later. “Do you know that Jakob is taking frozen chicken patties to school?”
“Yea. I know.” I sighed heavily, as I drove my car to work.
“Why????” she continued, incredulously.
“It’s what the kid wanted to eat.”
“But, they’re gonna be cold when he eats them, Jesse.” Ma said, tons of emphasis on my name. Like saying it with that little extra “umph” would get her point through my abnormally thick noggin that much better.
“Yea.” I replied helplessly. “I know.”
“And you still let him take it to school?”
I shrugged to the phone. “That’s what the kid wanted.”
“Ma, he’s not gonna starve if he doesn’t eat it. He’ll be fine.”
“You know…if the school finds out about it, you’re gonna get a phone call.”
I rolled my eyes. Only cause I was on the phone with her. In person? An eye roll is a slap to the back of the head. Still. “This in 2012, ma. School’s don’t give a shit.” And, yes, I did use a cuss word. I ain’t that afraid of her!
“Still, it’s not a good lunch for him.”
“I know, mom. But, he’s got to learn a lesson. He isn’t going to starve to death.” I reassured her. “Besides, maybe it’ll drive some of the pickiness out of him.”
“I still don’t like it.” She reiterated.
Duly noted. “Ok, mommie dearest.”
“And I don’t like when you call me that!” ma hissed.
“Yes, mommie dearest.”
“I’m hanging up now.” She announced. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, mommie dearest.” I said as she hung up. I’m not sure, but I swear I heard her call me an “idiot”.
And, sure as the day is long, I started finding uneaten chicken patties in Jakob’s school bag. I gotta give him credit, though. He gave it the ol’ college try. He roughed down those cold patties for the first couple of days. Until about a week later, that is. When, I started finding them partially eaten in his school bag. After a few more days passing, there wasn’t even a bite taken out of them.
On a side note, what is it with this kid? Don’t they have trash cans at the school or what?!?!? Why does he have to keep bringing the remnants of his lunch home with him? No, I didn’t ask him. Believe you me…it ain’t worth it. It’s not like I get a straight answer.
“So…I see you gave up on the chicken patty sandwiches, Jakob.” I said to him with my patented cocky, knowing smirk.
“I didn’t give up on them.” He replied, rather matter of factly. “I just feel like having ham.”
“Yea.” I said with an eye roll. “Right.
“For real, dad.” Jakob continued on.
“Whatever. You just got tired of eating cold patties.”
“No I didn’t. I like them like that.”
“I just want ham again.”
Kid sorta reminds me of his mother. Can’t admit when he’s wrong. But, that’s a story for another day on another blog. “Whatever, Jakob. Whatever.”
So, right back to the ham sandwiches we went. Until a few weeks later. When I heard Jethro , who took over lunch making for that week, call me from the kitchen. “Fadder!!!! Jakob said he doesn’t want a ham sandwich.”
“What?” I called back from my bedroom.
“He said he wants a noodle sandwich.”