Hey there, awesome readers!
School is done for the summer. HURRAAAAY!
I get that you don’t actually need me to remind you of that but if I may, I’d like to share some of my wisdom. Not because I consider myself wiser than you. Just older. Or said another way, more experienced in the ways of OOPS.
So school is out and summer vacation is on. You know what that means, right?
It means backpacks are out-of-sight, out-of-mind.
Except for …
In a couple of weeks from now you’ll walk into your kid’s room to tuck them in for the night and notice an odor coming from … somewhere.
You’ll notice but soon forget because it’s been a long day and you need a date with Netflix.
A few days will go by and you’ll notice that odor again and once again you’ll let it slide. You have other things to do. Like laundry, getting your kid to soccer practice on time, and looking up sangria recipes on Pinterest. (That last one may just be me. I’m in full-on sangria mode and according to my someone, COCONUT WATER DOES NOT MIX WELL WITH WINE, MONA. So if you have any good sangria recipes please send them my way. Pretty please?)
Then sometime in August you’ll walk into your kid’s room and that’s when you’ll have an epiphany and the word OOPS will explode in your head like a bag of popcorn in the microwave. (Your mouth will translate that OOPS into other words that rhyme with duck and yuck.)
You’ll hesitantly open up the closet door and the music from the shower scene in Psycho will blare out as you have a stare-down with THE THING. The thing is where the odor is coming from. It’s actually your kid’s backpack but right now it has no name, only a face. The face of yuck. Yes, the same yuck that rhymes with … yeah THAT word.
You’ll stretch out your right arm – or left arm if you’re left-handed – and sloooowwwwly reach out for the yuck thing. Slowly because you have no idea what’s in there; perhaps dead body parts. Clearly the odor is affecting your thinking.
Holding the backpack thing as far away from your body as possible, you’ll run into the kitchen where you’ll open it up and discover part of a sandwich (kind, unrecognizable but you’re pretty sure the green parts are not wasabi), an exploded juice box (oh that’s what the red is), and a brown banana.
Except now that you’ve read this, you don’t have to wait until August to experience this horror. Just put down your phone or laptop or whatever device you’re reading this from and go take care of it NOW.
You’re welcome.
Subscribe to this blog and get notified when new posts are up. How do you subscribe? Simply scroll back up and enter your email address in the subscription box in the sidebar.
Or you can follow this blog with Bloglovin.
Your choice!
Great story Mona – brings me down memory lane.
Lol…this sounds very familiar. My kids are long past the elementary school years but I remember them well. When my son was in Kindergarten I heard that he was throwing most of his sandwich away every day because he was in a hurry to get to the playground. I told him that he shouldn’t throw his sandwiches away…meaning he should eat them. Several weeks later I noticed an aroma coming from under his bed. Yup, weeks worth of half-eaten sandwiches…. well, he didn’t throw them out. He is 30 now and I’m pretty sure he eats all of his sandwiches.
Too funny, Joanne. Isn’t it funny how kids can take things so literally? Thanks for sharing your story 🙂