C'mon mom, pack a little fun: All nutrition makes for a dull lunchbox

Don't tell anyone, but I have packed Oreos in my son's lunch. And Lunchables. And occasionally (gasp), a "fruit drink" that is not especially fruitful.

I know, I know — I really should make more peanut-butter/granola/honey tortillas.

But they're just not as fun.

But Oreos — now there is fun: twisting, licking, scraping, dunking, slurping fun. And what 11-year-old kid could resist a Lunchable pizza with a shake-on packet of "extreme cheese flavor," even if there is nothing resembling real cheese in the whole kit? Or a "juice" pouch whose straw bursts with sour-apple goodness?

Not mine — and not me, either.

When I was a kid, school-lunch food was definitely fun — especially if you expand the definition of "food" to include Pixy Stix. We sucked down those sugar tubes till our tongues turned blue. We ate entire bags of Doritos just to see who could collect the most nacho-cheese-flavored-product residue on her fingertips. We didn't worry about hormones, antibiotics, additives, pesticides, fat, sodium or cholesterol in our food, and somehow, even without the School Nutritional Association (or bike helmets or car seats!), we survived. Go figure.

I know we're all hyped on healthy food. I know The Food Police are monitoring my son's school lunches and building a mighty strong case against me. I also know that my son really does need his recommended daily requirement of good stuff — and that Oreos are not high on ye olde Nutrition Pyramid.

But we don't have to cut out the fun completely, do we?

Barrage of goodness

Suddenly, especially during this back-to-school season, everybody seems really concerned with what my kid is eating. Go to lunchbox.com to pick out a new sack for Junior, and you're confronted with the $19.95 "Healthy Lunch for Kids" DVD (which includes "valuable tips on ... 'hiding' vegetables in your child's favorite meals"). Schools all across the country are adopting policies to serve more healthful foods, and parents are responding with the requisite holier-than-thou frenzy. ("Did you know his yogurt has Splenda in it?" "Well! He really likes his bacon, doesn't he?")

And, just recently:

• Seattle Public Schools formed a Nutrition Advisory Committee "to support the implementation of SPS Nutrition policies." (Here's the school policy when I was a kid: "Starch. Good.") The district's Web site includes a page titled "Healthy Snack Calculator" and a list of "approved healthy vending and snack items for schools." (On the list: soy milk, 100-percent juice. Not on the list: Pitch Black Mountain Dew.)

• Evergreen Junior High School in Redmond opened a new smoothie bar last year that sells fruity and yogurty concoctions. No soda in those vending machines, either — instead, flavored milk.

• Also last year, schools in Longview banned the sale of pop and sugary foods, and cut back on portion sizes of not-quite-so-healthful foods.

• One private school in New York state not only has banned sugary snacks, but it also offers healthy-cooking classes for parents. Cafeteria food is nutritious and low-fat — turkey chili with brown rice, braised red cabbage, hormone- and antibiotic-free milk, 100-percent fruit juice and, for dessert ... an apple.

• The Michigan State Board of Education recommended that all schools offer whole- and enriched grain products, "nonfat and/or low-fat real cheese" and healthy portions of lean meat or fish — all using "healthy food preparation techniques." Guess that eliminates the fried corn dog.

• The Center for Ecoliteracy in Berkeley, Calif., has published an entire illustrated marketing and communications project titled "Rethinking School Lunch Guide," apparently to help schools sell all this good stuff to kids bombarded with Pop-Tart commercials.

• In Nashville, public-school lunch menus include an "Awesome Choice" option — from the "Sunglow Fruit Plate" with crackers and milk, to a pimento cheese sandwich (and fruit, and milk). Awesome, indeed, if you like pimento cheese.

Rebels in need of fries

All very nice ideas, truly.

But the only problem with such rigorous guidelines is that — surprise! — kids will find a way to get what they can't have.

One of my son's friends, whose mother is an excellent, health-conscious cook, loves microwave popcorn. Hey! Whole-grain kernels — nothing evil there! Until, that is, he rips the bag open and licks the "butter" droppings from inside.

Another of his friends, at a chaotic class picnic, stuffed his mouth with so many Fruit Rollups, his teeth were dyed. For a minute, I wondered why he loved those hideous plastic-y things so much. Then his mother asked, "What's that in his mouth? I never let him have those!"

Rebellion works on a larger scale, too.

After Longview schools banned all that bad stuff, they discovered a new trend, all right ... student tardiness. Turns out the high-school kids were going off-campus before class for their caffeine, pop and/or candy. And in the cafeteria, where they dish out only half the usual amount of french fries? Kids go back for seconds. Who needs the WASL? These kids are quick.

Your mom's the coolest!

Sometimes a parent has to rebel, too.

During last year's Pioneer Days in my son's classroom, we were invited to bring in soup for the kids. Not pioneer cookies. Not pioneer cake. Soup. One mom whipped up a healthy blend of broccoli and veggies; another made a smooth chickeny broth with fresh noodles. I lugged in a Crock-Pot brimming with French Onion Soup — and heaping side plates of full-fat shredded "cheese" and carb-heavy French bread to float on top. Certainly the pioneers enjoyed dipping, soaking and ooey-gooeying a tiny bit, didn't they?

I also instigated end-of-the-year Sundae Fridays in earlier years, smuggling in all the anti-PC fixins for ice-cream sundaes — candy-bar toppings, sugar-laden sprinkles and whipped cream right out of the can.

Sure, my main objective was fun, but it's not just The Food Police working against that. There's also ultra-heightened food awareness.

Seattle Public Schools, for example, realized in 2004 that their policy had better include food and beverages that meet certain dietary requirements, as well as protein and dairy alternatives.

And during my own brief stint as a substitute teacher a while back, I was left a lesson plan that included counting with peanuts. How fun! How potentially deadly! I didn't dare dole out the nuts till I had called the school nurse to check for allergic kids.

And what if a lactose-intolerant young 'un had inhaled all the whipped cream on Sundae Friday? What if a budding vegan had slurped up my beef-stock soup?

Ooh — that would not have been fun.

Trade you for a Twinkie

The good news is, all is not lost. Our PTA's annual cake walk overflows with real, rich, fun sweet treats. Parents serve spaghetti and meatballs on Bingo Night with slabs of bread and butter. Kids still bring cookies and cupcakes and brownies for birthdays — and even for the late-morning stretch-and-snack session.

And, while schools are getting more strict about lunch, manufacturers are getting more creative.

Lunch boxes are fun (Mattel has new insulated Hot Wheels and Barbie totes, and lunchbox.com has a chest-shaped Superman soft-sider with a cape!). Lunch products are fun (the new banana-shaped Banana Saver keeps — guess what? — bananas safe from bruising). And lunchtime is still fun (kids still trade goodies and throw out anything that looks good for them).

And sometimes, when there are no Oreos around, it's fun just to talk about fun foods.

As I was writing, I asked my son what his three favorite fun foods were. His immediate reply: "Whipped cream, chocolate syrup ... and whipped cream."

OK. That's where I draw the line. He is not getting two cans of whipped cream in his lunch.

Sandy Dunham is a Seattle Times desk editor: sdunham@seattletimes.com