Feeling a touch generous after a full Saturday morning of errands and car time, my wife and I decided our troops deserved a reward. We’re usually of the stingy type when it comes to consumption of highly fructosed beverages, so an orange soda fit the bill for a unique and well-deserved treat.
The drink was dispensed and promptly guzzled upon our arrival at home, which – as you can recall from those younger days when you were not quite as mature as your present self – resulted in an unexpectedly (and rather amusing) deep belch from our oldest. This was followed shortly by another from a sibling. And so on. Normally, I like to keep a tight lid on this type of behavior, but – as with the beverage – this lunch felt a bit unique and so Burp Lunch was born.
The kids quickly grasped the atypical nature of the experience. Perhaps what sealed the wonder and delight of the Burp Lunch was the wide-eyed glee that resulted when I joined in. Like riding a bike, belching is not a skill that one loses over time, it seems.
Thanks to a few reminders that what was transpiring was most assuredly not our new standard for etiquette, we’ve since avoided a wholesale departure of all mealtime manners. But an excellent, memorable lunch was shared.
Now a glimpse of an orange soda on the shelf at the store brings a mischievous grin and a “remember that lunch…” conversation. The lingering joy of Burp Lunch has reminded me that there are times a memorable experience is worth more than flawless manners. And that sometimes I can get caught up in desiring and expecting perfection out of my kids when there ought to be room for a Burp Lunch every so often.
Photo used by permission of Deb Horst.