On a rainy Saturday, Dad declared that there would be a family sandwich contest. Everyone would create the best sandwich they could, and Mom would judge it blindfolded.
The rules were simple — only ingredients already in the kitchen, no help from anyone else, and the sandwich had to fit on one plate.
Younger brother Eli made a peanut butter sandwich with banana slices and a drizzle of honey. It was simple but neat, and he arranged the banana slices in a smiley face.
Dad made a towering club sandwich with turkey, cheese, tomato, lettuce, and a toothpick flag. It was so tall that it fell over before Mom could taste it. Dad called it abstract art.
Nora took a long time planning hers. She made a grilled cheese with apple slices and a tiny bit of mustard. She had seen that combination in a cookbook once.
Mom sat at the table and tasted all three sandwiches without peeking. She made thoughtful sounds with each bite, which made everyone nervous.
After the third taste, she pulled off the blindfold. Nora's grilled cheese won for unexpected flavor. Eli's won for most cheerful presentation. Dad's won for most ambitious attempt.
Everyone got a small prize — a sticker from the junk drawer. But they all agreed the best prize was eating three sandwiches for lunch and calling it a competition.