I don't like going to the mall. I don't like being inside, under fluorescent lights, I don't like driving the busy, divided highway to get there, I don't like using my precious babysitting time to be there, I don't like dragging my complaining kids in the stroller who want to get down, run away, and fondle everything over $100 that they can reach.
So, I kind of put off getting Will a lunch box for his first lunch at school. He'll be staying at his preschool for a little extra time just one day a week, and having lunch there. That way, since his normal school time is only 2 hours and 15 minutes, I'll have a chance to get more done with Andrew one day a week.
Only, he needs a lunch box. And all the other kids are probably going to have SUPER CUTE lunch boxes. Because what parent doesn't want their adorable little preschooler to have the coolest lunch box ever that will make them smile at lunch time? No parent. We all want that.
Except I didn't go to Pottery Barn kids, or Hanna Andersson, or even manage to Amazon Prime one from Skip Hop in time for tomorrow. I didn't even hit up the local toy store, Magic Beans, that I'm sure has lunch boxes.
So I did what any parent would do in the eleventh hour, after all the stores have closed, the night before their child's first school lunch ever. (I may have been in denial, because this seems like a big deal, Will actually eating a meal without me...)
I rummaged around the house.
I found a lunch box of Greg's. (Sorry, honey.)
I found colored duct tape in the basement. (Huh? Ok. Cool.)
I spent over half an hour making the best darn duct tape train I could, and cut out Will's name in bright letters to label his lunch box.
Is it from Pottery Barn? No. Did it cost a lot? No. Is it, from an artistic perspective, of any merit whatsoever? No.
Will he love it? Probably. Does it have his name on it in big, bright letters for the teachers to see? Definitely. Will any other kid there have the same lunch box? Hell no.
Love you, Will. Doing the best I can.