I forgot my own lunch again

Dear Delyara, I packed the children’s lunches. Naturally. Their fruit was cut, their snacks were right, the boxes were sealed, the drinks were filled, and I remembered to include the thing one of them suddenly decided they “definitely needed” at 7:42 this morning. Then at half-past twelve, I opened my own bag at work and found nothing for me. That’s the pattern. That’s what made me sad. It wasn’t that I had no food. I bought something. It was the quiet, familiar truth of being the person who remembers properly for everyone else and still manages to disappear from her own list in such an ordinary way that it almost looks natural. It should not feel natural. And yet it does.