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  • Writer's pictureCampbell Whitman

The 1-Handed Meal

Updated: Sep 11, 2020

I've been a pretty busy person my whole life. At around 11-12 years old, I was diagnosed with ADHD after my 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Farnsworth, who not only told me that I would never be a great writer, also told someone else that I was one of the many different ways to describe "difficult to teach." It was the early 90's so, not too long after that, Ritalin was my morning breakfast instead of boots, and on a side note, we all know to whom I intend to dedicate my first book....

But, getting back to business...


For many, the one-handed meal is discovered while strolling on a busy suburban street, as it walks past you in the hands of someone else. While looking around, you think to yourself, "That looks good, where'd they get that?" Strangely that sort of sounds like a twisted version of how I discovered my husband...


Now, even though this meal doesn't ask you to join him at a local Parisian café for some late night drinks with a friend, nevertheless, you fall in love with it. And, from that point on, your life is changed. The freedom you feel to grab something tasty, jump in the métro and devour it, enjoying each bite while commuting is overwhelming and reminds you there are 24 explorable hours in every day. You're inspired! Maybe you're single. Maybe you're not and you tandem a one-handed meal, effortlessly staying in love with both your partner and the meal at the same time. But regardless, it's a dreamy time, isn't it?


Then you have kids. And, then you discover that like all things in life, there are ups & downs and love fades. Even the love of a perfect one-handed breakfast burrito because it becomes a necessity instead of the joyful act of food, love & independence coming together as one.


As I ate the above breakfast burrito in solitude while my kids were swimming at a nearby lake with their father, I realized, the one-handed meal has often become my savior! At times, it seems like the only way I can get nutrition into my body, while simultaneously tackling household/parental duties, keeping the kids alive and the chaos dead! I am thankful for each bite of the one-handed meal as I feel it filling my body with energy and love, which ironically was kinda what you had hoped having a child would bring to you in your pre-kids naiveté...


But, I have to remind myself over and over again in between the heavy-hitting moments of the life of a parent that, "It's just a phase..." They grow older and so do we.....And just like that, I try harder to enjoy them, instead of that delicious, fucking breakfast burrito.







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