A good lunch is an important thing.

Charlee, age 3 and 11/12ths, met me at the top of the stairs this morning. She was dressed in pants, a shirt, some sort of short sleeved sweater thing, new sketcher sneakers and backpack...filled with who knows what.

It was shortly after 8, and undoubtedly she'd already been up for 2 hours.

She was ready for action.

Her: "Are you going to work Kaleen?"
Me: "yes, sweetie, I'm going to work"
Her: "Can I come with you?"
Me: "no, sweetie, you can't come with me"

She toddled off while I said good morning to Carleigh and we chatted about tonight's plans.

She returned, with one raw egg, inside of the largest ziploc bags we have.

Her: "Kaleen! I made your lunch!"
Me: "You shouldn't have."
Carleigh: "Good luck with that one..."

I was able to sneakily place said lunch back into the fridge without Charlee noticing while she busily added one drawing, and one "card" that she'd made into the mix. Gifts for work.

She did ask me, though, as I walked out the door, if I had packed the egg into my lunch bag.

I lied.