I don't know about your mama, but mine can pack a mean lunch. \nCirca 1989, one look into my nylon Barbie lunchbox would have revealed the most efficiently organized meal you'd ever seen. A fruit cup sequesters the sandwich from the juice box so it doesn't get soggy, and conducts the chill to provide makeshift refrigeration. A spoon, properly lodged, not only creates partitions to allow for minimal food rattling, but serves as the one needed utensil to consume both the fruit and optional pudding dessert.\nYes, Mom was a champion in those days. In her prime she was packing for not only two growing grade-school girls, but a husband who claimed he "didn't know how to work those little sandwich bags." Yet, did she ever compromise her craft with a prepackaged Lunchable? Did she break down and buy Handi-Snacks just for the sake of sweet time?\nNo way.\n"It's a waste of money," she'd say. "If you want cheese and crackers I'll just buy cheese and crackers."\nUnfortunately, this sensible theory of maternal economics just isn't appreciated anymore. Marketers aiming to capture an "on the go" generation now wrap ordinary foods in elaborate packages, all in the sorry name of "convenience." You can buy Doritos in an aerodynamic plastic bottle. You can stick a small vat of M&Ms right in your cup-holder. Sweet heaven, you can finally suck yogurt right out of a tube.\nAnd I thought the yogurt industry would never catch up with my fast-paced lifestyle.\nThe "to-go" snack trade is getting out of hand. Will we really pay 130 percent more for shrunken Cheetos in a cup than old-fashioned Cheetos from the bag? Apparently, we're expected to. At Marsh, you can get over an ounce of Cheetos in a single-serving bag for 25 cents. In the same aisle, those sleek plastic bottles of Cheetos sell for $1.29 -- they're two and a half ounces, which is only about two of those bags. So what value do we get from that extra 79 cents? The ability to pour the Cheetos directly into the throat? That's just what the "on the go" person needs. A snack food they can inhale during a morning jog.\nThese products are obviously a waste of money. But they're also just waste. The Environmental Protection Agency says we already produce 14.4 million tons of plastic trash every year. Tostitos tubs and corn chip canisters can only worsen that pile. A study from the Michigan State University School of Packaging claims an American family can reduce their garbage production by 285 pounds each year simply by shopping for products that come in the lesser amounts of packaging. This has cost benefits, too. The study also showed that a family could save $150 a year just by buying cereal in a large bag rather than a small box.\nBut my mom could have told you that. In the face of the aforementioned Cheetos dilemma, Mom would have skipped those single-serving sizes altogether. The chips in our lunch boxes came from a big economy bag that she divided herself. 150 sandwich bags only cost $1.39. \nThe brown bag recycling regime instated in our house preserved resources as well. When my dad used to carry bag lunches, a rubber-banded bundle of ten reusable brown bags would appear from his briefcase at the end of every two weeks. Such impeccable thrift.\nBut even if you don't buy my mom's old grocery store philosophies, consider the success of an even bigger mama in the convenience food scene. A little company called Mother Earth has been mass-producing ideal food for the active individual for years. Her snacks are healthy, biodegradable and most importantly, ready for the immediate and portable consumption society demands. Apple, anyone? Banana?
Mama knows convenience
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