Ruby Tuesday’s

Tuesday morning as a pre teen always packed a punch.

My mother Ruby made it better when she made me my lunch.

Bagged up before I headed out the door for school.

She’d probably get a call later when I act a fool.

At least my last meal before the whoopin’ would look good.

My mother always fed me well because she cooked good.

Really she cooked great. Everything looked great.

All my friends always noticed when we sat and ate.

They also noticed the love notes that she would write on my lunch.

I was embarrassed by how much she wrote she loved me a bunch.

My mama’s lunches always brightened up my every new day.

I’ll always treasure the memories of those Ruby Tuesdays