The school snack issue

Pudd’ng’s school has introduced a snacks timetable, which the school administration has said that all the pupils must adhere to. For three days, the pupils can only carry fruits. And for two days, they can carry either bread or mandazi.

Before the school came up with this timetable, the pupils carried any kind of snack. Baby girl says that the reason for the timetable is for the pupils to eat healthily. I guess her reasoning comes from the fact that fruits are given top priority and junk foods are virtually banned.  

Me? I think that there is more to this ploy than meets the eye. The school wants to make all the pupils feel equal. Plain and simple.

The school provides a cup of tea or porridge at 10 o’clock, but pupils have to carry a bite to eat. Their thinking – (methinks) – is that there are pupils who carry all the scrumptious expensive bites, while others have nothing. What this timetable does is levelling the snacks’ table.

Way back when, schools had no such worries. Our doting mothers always made sure that we went to school with our snacks already packed inside our little tummies.

Sharing is caring

Pudd’ng’s school is a melting pot of sorts. It has pupils from different socioeconomic, ethnic and national backgrounds.

What I know for a fact is that baby girl is not Stingy Sue. We always tell our daughter that it is good to share her snacks with friends and classmates who do not have.

Talk is cheap. To us, it is not just a matter of preaching to the child, but modelling this virtue by sharing with those who are less fortunate. Seeing is not just believing; it is also copying.

Ketchup heaven

Knowing Pudd’ng and her sweet tooth, I am sure the mandazi or bread will be so “dressed up” until they lose their “identity”. Our daughter can put ketchup on any type of food. Sometimes I think that she can even eat ketchup raw.

To get around her dislike of bread, Pudd’ng likes making a sandwich. And then she pours ample amounts of ketchup on the sandwich.

“How does that taste?” I’ll ask – because it does not make sense to my taste buds - and the look on her face will tell me that she in ketchup heaven.  

I cannot wait to see the types of things Pudd’ng will do to her bread and mandazi, just to make them a little more delectable.

Just to be sure, I asked her if her school will allow her to carry her favourite bread-and-bacon sandwich soaked in ketchup, and she replied in the affirmative.   

To Pudd’ng, the bread and mandazi are just the basic ingredients in the snacks’ timetable. Once she has the basic ingredient covered, the rest is up to her imagination and food items that we have in the refrigerator.

Trading snacks

What if, instead of coming up with a timetable, the school said that pupils would be trading snacks?

This would - depending on which pupil you spoke to - go down well or not. The child who always carries the crusty bread would get a chance to know how the other half lives. Ditto the one whose snack box looks and has an aroma like it came from a top chef kitchen.

As a father, I have learnt that I should always read between the lines. At times, Pudd’ng tells me things in a roundabout way.

“When you buy pizza, can I carry a piece to school to take as a snack?” Pudd’ng has asked me on a number of occasions.

If given the chance to trade snacks, I know who Pudd’ng would always hang around; the classmate who carries a piece of pizza.