Brown bagging was my roll. However, suffering from PB and J after four straight days, I could then use those sandwiches as currency when someone in the cafeteria placed a corndog in front of me. Working it properly, I said if they tossed in a homemade cookie, it would seal the deal.
My older sisters and brothers grew up without brown bags. They developed a hankering for cinnamon, chili, mashed potatoes with gravy and pizza from the lunch ladies pre-dating the ones dropping cigarette ashes in the plum pudding.
After lunch, my siblings would drop their cell phones, I phones, I pods, and I can’t read or write without my own pods, (none of which existed at that time) and burn those cafeteria calories on the playground.