Last week we were mired in other more pressing concerns, but I kept thinking about some fitting military-type euphemism in keeping with the spirit of Operation Bento Box that would capture the setback the whole plan suffered last week.

I couldn't come up with one, though. (The words Retreat! Retreat! Retreat! kept flashing through my mind, however.) [more]

Growing up with just one brother, I often was aware of the eating prowess of a teenage boy. My brother is more than five years older than I am, so I have early memories of him eating...and eating...and eating. I would have one pop-tart package, he would have the rest of the box. He would plow through a pound of lunch meat, I'd have half a sandwich. While I was picking at my dinner plate like a bird, he was getting his third helping. My earliest memories of boys and how they eat was clear: Boys eat a lot; teenage boys eat a ton. [more]