"I think you're right," I told him while cooking dinner and writing a grocery list at the same time. "Good thing I saved that. I thought it was cute, good for saving small amounts of gravy or sauce or something."
"It IS cute," he agreed, put the container back and left the room.
Flash forward a few days. This morning I was making his lunch and rinsed off a few blueberries. I remembered what he had said last week and thought he would be happy to open his lunchbox and see that I had remembered his suggestion.
Container.
Blueberries.
Lid.
Lunchbox.
Done.
But then I took it out again. I had doubts. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. But the image of his delight at having been heard, something that the youngest child in the family struggles with, overwhelmed me. If those blueberries were in any other container he would be sad and disappointed that I didn't remember what he had suggested just a few days ago. An idea that I had agreed was a good one.
So I got out a black Sharpie and did a little artwork on the container. I covered up anything that I thought might have raised eyebrows, proudly put it back in his lunchbox and sent him off to his first full week of third grade.
A few hours, and several cups of coffee later, I had a bold jolt of OHMYGOSHWHATDIDIDO?!
I grabbed this out of the fridge in it's pre-repurposed form. He's still at school and I'm expecting a call from his teacher any minute. |
I guess any mom can write a note, but it takes a special breed of mom to send a message.
Yeah. Sigh. Big sigh.