Today I have driven nearly 68 kilometres, taking children to and from playdates, practices, and tryouts. School starts soon and they’re all antsy. My youngest is going into middle school and she’s anxious about everything—the new building, having a locker, going to different rooms for each class. On top of worrying about school, she’s also my one and only picky eater, and this week our primary chef (aka. Daddy) is away for work. So the last thing I want to do tonight is cook. I’m set on the last days of our summer together being warm and fuzzy, not a battle about what she tries to feed the dog when I’m not looking.
Enter Boston Pizza. She will be happy. I will be happy. And the best part is that we’re helping other kids.