Chances are, you're happy just to have made it out the door on time
For some mums, their kid's lunchbox is the perfect opportunity to express their creativity, to be a thing of PTA legends as they cram their sweet offspring's bento boxes full of carrots engraved with their favourite cartoon characters' faces.
For others, it's enough that you've managed to pack a lunchbox at all as opposed to, say, a plastic box full of Lego and the remote control (true story). Here's why you might not be managing feats of culinary imagination before 6.30am.
You are not champion vegetable whittler
Funnily enough, you don't have easy access to a miniature tool kit and a fine art degree. The last time you tried to sculpt a cucumber or carrot to look anything like this, the paramedics packed your thumb in ice and raced you to A&E.
You never had it this good anyway
Back in the day, you didn’t have all this fancy nonsense. When you were at school you had a leaky Roughneck flask full of warm Ribena and a packet of Space Raiders, and you were happy. OK, you were malnourished, but whatever. You're not pandering to these whims out of sheer principle.
Something else came up
You would make a healthy snowman tableau for lunch, but you've been quite tied up lately scouring antiques fairs for the perfect Jane Austen bonnet for World Book Day. Plus your child just informed you that it’s actually Eco Day at school tomorrow, and you have to make a complex last-minute wind turbine costume out of toilet rolls instead.
You asked Dad to do it
Because apparently, a Peppa Pig lunchbox, two slices of bread, a squeeze of ketchup and a king-size Yorkie from the petrol station seems like a perfectly appropriate packed lunch for a four year old.
If you're even more blessed in the husband department like this lady, pictured right, your offspring will travel to work carrying a tin of that most nutritious snack, cat food. (Do not feed your children cat food.)
You really, really tried. This was never going to be your 'thing' but one bag of apples, two panic attacks and three trips to the pound shop later, and you've got a marshmallowy, appley creation like this on your hands. Then the three days of nightmare management that inevitably follow.
Last night’s Merlot
You woke up at 8:15am with a two-glasses-of-red-wine hangover, spent 20 minutes trying to find a lunchbox, then realised the only thing in the fridge was a fossilised Babybel.
You can hear their moans for novelty shaped yogurts and Frozen-themed princess sandwiches but you're just like: