Bag It
The Toy Story backpack selected by
my son during our back to school shopping trip the summer before fifth grade
had me tongue tied.
“Should Mom be the one to tell him
that most kids his age have graduated from wearing cartoon characters, or
should I risk insecure feelings that may come when this “coolness” lesson is
learned through the school of life?, I wondered.
The sadness about having to grow up
portrayed so well in the Toy Story movies eventually got to me, and I kept my
mouth shut.
Maybe I was out of touch with the
ten year old world, I thought. Maybe kids are nicer and less concerned with
appearance than I assume. Besides, it’s just a bag. As long as it carries your
items, that’s all that matters. Or is it?
My non-fashion conscious train of thought
came to a screeching halt day I got - what I like to call “coached.”
The Bridal shower gift that did it
was pearly white in color with glowing gold accents. The pockets were amply sized, the zippers
obviously very durable. The fabric was thick, and decorated with a repeating
letter C pattern that I had noticed before but clearly not understood. Coach.
Squeals rung out the moment the Mom
to be lifted it from it’s perfectly wrapped box. Then the comments came.
“Your Daddy scored some points this time!”
“Now I can’t stand next to you
carrying this bag from Target.”
“You sure didn’t get THAT free at
the hospital.”
“I’m so jealous!”
I myself
was without words to add. Although I appreciated the quality of the bag and
would have loved to carry it myself, I was not as jealous as I was confused. I
had gone through four free hospital
bags, and loved them all! Had I been
walking around looking sub par all these years and not even known it?
It took
only a few seconds for me to snap out of my adult version of Toy Story backpack
trauma that I had worried my son may face.
I was able to smile at myself and others the rest of the shower, sharing
in the joy brought from such a perfectly personalized gift.
Then came
time for me to select my next diaper bag. Child #5 was on the way, and I had
heard the freebie bags were offered by the hospital no more. Comments from the
day I was “coached” swum through my head as I debated about how much money to
spend. Tips I’d heard from a beauty seminar about color and design further
clouded my ability to choose. I wanted
to look put together and have all my gear organized. I also wanted to stay within a budget, and
not give in to materialistic marketing. After
concluding that I had spent way to much time thinking such a trivial thing
over, I decided to take the peer pressure and BAG IT!
I drove
straight to D.I. , rummaged through the rack until I found a bag that would
work, paid my $3.00, and was on my way.
“When I no
longer need to carry bulky diapers, smashed cheerios, and leaky bottles, I will
spend money on the perfect purse. “ I thought.
Now my baby
is turning toddler, my thrift store bag is shot, and it’s time to shop.
Choosing the bag for me should not be that hard, but because I was not born
with fashion as my forte, I may just have to consult, a coach.
Picture taken after problem solved. (out with the old, in with the new)
