Note to self: Read all notes and letters sent home from Camiel's school.

Apparently the kids were all supposed to take a lunch for someone else in their class, decorated and wrapped in traditional easter paper, flowers, bunnies, and all that other stuff. Camiel and I walked into the school building holding a plastic sandwich bag and a juice box with the girl's name on it, satisfied at having remembered to carry out this small task.
And everyone else walked in with baskets and boxes and gift bags full of ribbons and bows and flowers and chocolate eggs. 
Camiel was the only one who was not carrying a nicely prepared lunch.
Besides the shame of having missed such an important instruction probably sent home 
at some point, enhanced by the disapproving gaze of all the mothers who walked in with their kids proudly holding up their little easter offering, I felt terrible for the little girl who would 
probably be the only on in the class without pretty lunch.
As I left the building, I pictured her sitting in front of her meal, sniffling as the teacher explained to her that some people are forgetful and that life will present her with many more disappointments. I told myself it wasn't my fault (no one told me, after all, and besides, how in the world am I supposed to keep track of all these Dutch traditions that I have never heard of before?!), that it was too late, that it wasn't that big of a deal...until finally I decided that I had to do something, so I turned the car around and drove to the nearest store and bought some gift wrapping, tape, and scissors. I decorated the little bag in the car, wrote a nice probably grammatically incorrect note on the card, and rushed into the school building, hoping to sneak in before their snack time and put the sandwich and juice into the bag without being noticed, saving the day and making the little girl happy.
Instead, I was met by frantically busy mothers and a very frustrated looking teacher who were all trying to get the children in order for the picnic they were about to leave on. So much for secrecy. I looked for the food and couldn't find it. Finally I tapped on the teacher's shoulder, who turned and gave me a "don't bother me, I'm terribly busy" look, asked her where the food was, and she sent me off to one of the moms. The mom reacted similarly, then when I explained my mission she said in a tone that indicated nothing pleasant, "We wrapped it already." Oh. Right. Figures. So, I found the sandwich wrapped in yellow crepe paper and decorated with easter eggs, managed to squish it into the pink ribbon-dressed gift bag, then stood there feeling very disappointed and foolish, holding my good intentions in my hands.

As I left I realized that we had forgotten to pack a fruit snack.