Does anything say back-to-school quite like the joy of picking out school supplies? I think not. From the cartoon character lunch boxes and a three-pack of glue sticks to the round-point scissors and loose leaf paper, shopping for that first day of school is its own reward. A rite of childhood, if you will.
Except for when there is no back-to-school shopping.
Maybe I should explain. This whole fiasco started at kindergarten orientation for our granddaughter Squish. (No, not her real name. Let’s keep going, shall we?)
As we approached her classroom I innocently inquired about Squish’s status where school supplies were concerned.
“Got them all,” Hannah said. “Bought a box, everything’s in there, don’t have to buy another thing!”
I stood there with my chin on the floor, wondering if I’d heard what I thought I’d just heard. What’s worse, it was as if she intended to pour salt in this fresh wound.
How could it be that Hannah was actually happy about this?! Thrilled that this sacred rite of childhood had been stripped from her own daughter like a piece of outdated wallpaper on a fixer-upper episode on HGTV?
Was she immune to the repercussions? Or simply in denial?
There’d be no picking out the Ticonderoga pencils, or vying for the 64-pack of Crayola crayons with the built in sharpener. No wide-ruled notebooks with cute little puppies to buy. No bottles of rubber cement to stiff on the drive home.
So I did what any good mother/grandmother would do, even if I was bordering on light despondency. I reminded Hannah of her own days of school shopping. Days when we’d stand in the aisles of the department store for what seemed like hours while she lamented whether to get the pencil box with the yellow daisies or the polka dots, the Blues Clues or the Lion King backpack, the 8-pack of fruit-scented markers or the 16-pack of regular markers. I reminded her of the sense of accomplishment when she arrived home with bags full of school supplies The glee with which she tore into each package to put its contents in just the right backpack pocket.
Had she no shame? I truly wondered.
I turned my attention back to Squish, who was clearly as miffed at the pre-packaged box of supplies as her grandmother.
“Why is there hand sanitizer in here?”
Why indeed, Squish. Alas it’s a whole new world, I suppose. But not so new that I won’t be picking you up and taking you school shopping next year. And maybe your mother can come too. All we’ll have to do is bribe her with a variety pack of bold point ink pens.
Saint Aquinas, Saint Therese of Lisieux, Blessed Carol Acutis and all the angels and saints, pray for our students!
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