Tears in my Peanut Butter and Jelly

Alright, it's a little dramatic, but tomorrow I send Will off for a full day of school (a trial run for the half day kinders).  It's killing me.  I'm making his lunch as if it were the last supper.  I hate that we won't be together during the noon hour to talk about all that's happened during our morning apart.  I've been thinking about what to put in his lunch box for over a week.  It's ridiculous, I know, but I guess it's my way of showing him I love him and I'm thinking about him.

 I used to swear that I would NOT be the mom that cut the crust off their children's sandwiches.  What kind of pansy doesn't eat their crust?  They would be tough, eat their sandwich, and be grateful that they had crust to eat, dangit!  Now I actually OWN a special little tool that not only cuts the crust off the sandwich, it also makes two dinosaur shapes.  Mmmhmmm.  That's right. 

While I'm preparing to make this last supper of a lunch, I decide to use the last of the freezer jam on Will's prehistoric p.b. & j.  I do mean last.  I scraped the insides of the jar until I couldn't get another drop.  That's when I lost it.  Yep.  That's the last batch of jam we made during our last glorious, freedom filled summer of innocence.  Traipsing away to faraway strawberry fields with friends.  Then I can't hold back the tears because damnit, isn't that just freakin' symbolic?  Come on!  God was TRYING to get me to cry.  Good thing I am so busy cutting slices of bread into brontosauri and don't have time to put on mascara anymore, otherwise it'd be running down my face.