Snack on Demand

They are my heroines. The moms who produce instantly for their hungry little ones snack on demand. They are my David Copperfields, magicians pulling rabbits out of hats, slipping coins between sleeves with ease. Instead, in less than a moment's notice, they pull out savory treats and carefully wrapped goodies; bags and containers of fruits, cookies and other delights to feed an army.

You know the type and you know the scenario. You're away from home and could be anywhere -- a park, the theater, a museum -- and there's not even a snack machine in sight and you're down to your last ounce of Poland Spring, jutting out of your pocketbook like a trophy.

Then it starts -- the chant, the familiar refrain --better than Tibetan monks-- "I'm hungry, I'm thirsty, my tummy hurts." You assure them there's food at home or in the restaurant you're planning to take them to for lunch, and even offer a sip of your water till you get home but it just doesn't cut it. You're losing patience with them and they've lost all patience with you. They're repeating themselves a bit louder, more forcefully this time. Then comes the whining. The high-pitched shrill question: "Whyyyyyy? I want to eat NOW!"



You rifle through your purse and in between the wallet, tissues, hand sanitizer, bruch, comb, baby wipes, receipts and loose change for some morsel, a stick of gum even, you could give the little ones. Is it possible you left the granola bars on the kitchen counter before you went out the door with the keys?

You glance over to the park bench or theater seats or makeshift table and your jaw drops open with what you're about to behold.


There to your side are moms opening mini-Tupperware containers with snap-on lids brimming with pre-cut strawberries and grape halves. There's hummus and octagon-shaped gorgonzola crackers. Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into heart shapes. These are not thrown together munchies, but perfect packages, like beautiful Bento boxes. Don't forget the tidy cartons of Goldfish crackers, fruit rollups, little boxes of Cheerios and animal crackers.
Then there are the momma wizards who can whip out lollipops, chocolates and candy cups with dancing candy pellets that twirl and play music with flashing lights, faster than you can say tantrum. And if they bring along candy or food they always have enough to offer your child and half the kids in sight, which can be a dozen or more! These moms are magical snack wizards -- look out Harry Potter!

These are not hasty, roughly thrown together snacks like I prepare: grapes thrown in plastic baggies. A few raisin boxes. Foodbars dumped in my purse at a moment's notice that get smushy and all crumbly when you're ready to eat them. That doesn't cut it. That means you're lazy, sloppy, a bad mother.

I want to be a mom who can produce snack on demand. I want to be a pharmacist of calm. An anticipator of antsiness. A resourceful survivor for my own sanity. Entrepreneur of an array of tricks. I want to be a masterful food psychologist with a forumla that always works.

Maybe I'll never reach those heights, but I can get a bit better organized and make my snacks more creative and organized, and maybe prepare snacks for my kids at least the night before.

You thought the story of Jesus and the loaves and fishes was a miracle -- try the moms with the snacks!