We've arrived at the point in our lives when you give your child's daycare lead teacher $30 cash for an Emergency Pizza Fund. What?!?! You've never heard of an Emergency Pizza Fund? The Emergency Pizza Fund is simple. When your child runs out of formula/breast milk, and or blended baby food during the day and is still hungry, the teacher orders a pizza for him/her to eat and share with the other babies and teachers in the classroom. It's just like the Emergency Coffee Fund and Emergency Beer Fund you carry with you in your wallet that you can access using a credit card that your wife has no knowledge of so she can't use it, nor limit your ability to use it. We all run into these problems folks. Get with it. I mean, even our dog, Lincoln, has an Emergency Bone Fund. 

Anyways, this Emergency Pizza Fund was started because Sawyer kept going through the food we would send with him at the beginning of the day. Before we were finished with work, we would receive a text message from the Director of the daycare informing us that we are horrible mothers for starving our child and not sending him with enough food. Honestly, we send him with plenty, but his excuse is that he's a growing boy, who is also trying to grow a penis, and therefore he needs to eat more then what the online parenting articles and his pediatrician says he needs to eat in terms of calories for the day. In the next four years we will need to buy a farm so we can have a cow, goat, lamb, chickens, and acres of gardens to feed this kid.  

When I arrived to pick him up one day at daycare this past week, the lead teacher again asked that we send him with an extra bottle and a pot roast just in case he runs out of food. I told her, "Sometimes when he's fussy, it's because he's tired and he needs to go down for a nap, not eat again. He'll eat even if he's not hungry just because he absolutely loves food. We also would like for him to eat every 2.5-3 hours, not every 1.5-2 hours." Then one of the assistants in the room piped up and started giving me her opinion, but at that point I was already done discussing it because...well, because I'm one of his mothers, and with the amount of money we are spending monthly on daycare, I think the teacher and assistants can work a bit at getting him to take a nap, etc., instead of relying on food to wane his fussiness. Instead of sharing that thought out loud I said that I would bring cash for an Emergency Pizza Fund. If Sawyer eats ALL of his food and is absolutely starving before the end of the day, then that constitutes an emergency, and they have my permission to use the $30 to order an organic vegetarian pizza from Food Shed that they will carefully feed our son, share with any of Sawyer's classmates that are allowed to eat pizza, and enjoy themselves. That seemed to make them happy, and when Sawyer arrived the next morning with the envelope of cash and this letter, it made them even happier, and they laughed until they realized that A) it's an EMERGENCY fund, and B) there was no cash for beer. 

That day, I got a text from the director with this picture of Sawyer enjoying his last bottle, and informing me that Sawyer was on his last bottle and was pointing at the Emergency Pizza Fund envelope.  Holy hell...I've created a food monster. 

Now, you'll have to excuse me. I need to use my Emergency Beer Fund and purchase some beer.