An Ode To The School Lunch

As I sit down and crush Dub Cheesys all day, I like to think of the simpler times. The times when I didn't have to do shit, but open the brown paper bag, and eat whatever was in it.

Fun fact about the kid Dub J: I am a mama's boy and grew up an only child. A deadly concoction for having spectacular school lunches made on a regular basis. I’m not underplaying the fact that I was the ultimate bitch boy. Like, it was bad. My mom would wake me up, have breakfast made, and have clothes laid out from age 3 until some embarrassing age that neither of us want to admit. I started dressing myself at 10 though, because Mom didn’t understand the concept of the pre-shirt and the shirt (what up Jersey Shore). Anyway, I was definitely on some “Jetsons” conveyor belt type shit. Wake up, have a machine brush my teeth and wash my face, have breakfast laid out, and clothes basically put on my body during elementary school. That shit was awesome. All I was responsible for was killing it on spelling tests and knowing the state capitals.

In an effort to salvage the subject of this post, I’ll bring up one thing: Dunkaroos. The vanilla ones. These things were the gamechangers of a bagged lunch. Like you know what to expect out of the Turkey sandwich and the juice, and you know the apple’s going to play some effective defense, but the Dunkaroos could turn any lunch around. Occasionally mom would throw some gummy bears in there too, but that lead to some phone calls from the teacher about “your son keeps going up to girls and hugging them.” Young Dub DID NOT fair well with sugar.

Someone needs to pay their respects to the old school lunches. They were a hell of a lot better than the evens and odds I spurt out in the McDonald’s lines.