Teen lunch

Life was much easier when Izzy allowed Nicola, her mother, to make her school lunches. That was back in the primary-school days when Izzy answered to Isabel, of course, and liked little notes from Nicola in her lunchbox and the crusts cut off her sandwiches.

These days, Izzy makes her own lunch for secondary school and does not eat sandwiches. No one in school eats sandwiches, she says, her eyes rolling. A friend with older kids told Nicola that the only way to get through the teen years is to say nothing and keep nodding, for a two-year minimum.

So Nicola does not point out that wraps are kind of sandwiches, even if they are made with those brightly coloured beetroot or spinach wraps that cost three times the price of a sliced pan for three times less product.

Also, Nicola’s purse would appreciate it if Izzy would just peel and chop a carrot for her self-imposed veg portion, but Izzy prefers the fancy pre-cut ones, all uniformly cut with nice curved edges. All her friends have them, so Izzy can’t turn up with rough-looking carrots. Of course she can’t.

Nicola can’t complain about this to her husband, Paul. That would only give him opportunity to point out, as he does over the clothes and the shoes and the bloody school trip to Barcelona, that it was Nicola’s idea to send Izzy to the school beyond their means.

Of course, Nicola is pleased that Izzy is eating healthily. She’s just amazed at how expensive it all is. Aren’t the newspapers always going on about how it’s more expensive to eat processed food than fresh fruit and veg? Then again, they’re not talking fresh coconut, unusual kiwis and home-made pesto, she imagines.

Nicola hides the receipts and branded wrappers from the fancy supermarket from Paul. He thinks she gets the purple and green wraps in the German supermarket, where she gets the bread, cheese, ham, bog-standard fruit and whatever yogurts are on the best deal. The younger kids don’t complain. Izzy won’t eat yogurts any more; she says they’re full of sugar.

Nicola doesn’t bother to tell her that she was on the sugar warpath long before Izzy could interpret nutritional information labels and that any yogurt, other than plain, comes in around and about the same on the sugar front. Not good for you per se, but not as bad as an ice-cream.

And Izzy still loves an ice-cream. And still gets the odd note from Nicola in her lunchbox. Neither Nicola nor Izzy has mentioned these, but Nicola has received a few eye-rolling-plus-love-heart emojis around school lunch time.