or as cal calls it, "a pack-pack"
Cal starts school next week. He has a classroom "party" (read: one hour mutli-kid playdate in his new classroom) Friday, and then we're off to the races next Tuesday. We thought we were all set on the backpack front (he was going to use this little backpack left over from my high school days--I used this as more of a purse, because no self-respecting teenaged girl in mid-90's Manhattan would wear an actual PURSE, what are we, SUBURBAN or something? Times are different now, of course, teenagers being all high-fashion and whatnot, but anyway, I do not have any knockoff Hermes Birkin bags to pass off to my offspring) but then we got a notice from the school that the backpacks had to be 15 inches large at least, so as to easily accommodate all the crap that Cal will be lugging back and forth. Lunch and napping blanket and art projects and whatnot, you know. Needless to say, he will rarely be carrying this bag himself, as he is wee, and, as we have established before, a delicate flower. But anyway, we decided to get him a new backpack, maybe even one that wasn't fifteen years old. So we got him this:
We ordered it off of eBags, and Cal picked it out himself, after scrolling endlessly through various iterations of the same (green backpack with bugs, yellow backpack with dinosaurs, blue backpack with fish, etcetera). He is very excited for his new backpack, and very proud. I told him that I was going to order it for him, as sort of a first day of school present, and he wandered away, singing happily to himself. About ten seconds after I completed the order, Cal came back downstairs, looked at me questioningly, and asked, "Did my packpack get here yet?" You have much to learn in the ways of online shopping, son.
(As, apparently, do I. Dammit! I just went to the site, and noticed that now everything is 20% off, the day AFTER I placed my order. Who has a sale on a Sunday? Those bastards.)