Sandwich.

It never ceases to amaze and delight me the way a six-year-old (yes, most of them are six now…) can raise me out of a foul mood. As I wrote about Friday, it rained ALL WEEK. It was miserable. By Friday, I was not my usual chipper self to say the least.

During Center Time, I was sitting, gloomily, in the Kitchen when David came over to take my order.

“What do you feel like today, Mr. _______?” He asked.

“Hmmm. I’m not really hungry, why don’t you just bring me something light,” I said.

“I know just what you need,” he murmured as he walked back into the kitchen.

After a few minutes of rustling and mumbling from him and his co-cooks, he emerged with this in hand:

“David, is that a… a money sandwich?” I asked him.

“Uh-huh – sure to satisfy your belly and make you smile!” He cheered.

How could I not have a huge grin on my face as I pretended to eat my expensive snack?  Rainy gloom... you've met your match.