I am not typically a brown-bagger in fact I very rarely take my lunch to work. What I am though, is very much a creature of routine. There is a rhythm to my mornings. Disrupt that rhythm and you will likely disrupt my sweet disposition as well.
The other evening we had an exceptionally tasty lasagna for dinner. My bride equates food with love and she is one of the most loving people I have ever known. Cleaning up after dinner, I set aside some lasagna for lunch the following day. I put it into one of those sealable plastic devices that will be on this planet much longer than I and place it in the fridge. Knowing that getting my lunch out of the fridge before heading to work is not part of the rhythm of my morning routine — but grabbing my keys certainly is — I place my keys in the fridge on top of the sealable plastic device containing my lunch. Thus ensured that I will not leave the house without the lasagna, I relax and settle into reading a book, or maybe it was the newspaper… whatever.
A bit later that evening my daughter is rummaging through the fridge. Seeing my keys sitting on top of said plastic container she turns and glances my way. A sweet smile crosses her face and it is as if I am able to read her thoughts. “Senility is so adorable on you, dad.”