I was reading over the remaining school supply items for Gabe in my memos yesterday. On that list? Copy paper and three large glue sticks. I keep forgetting about the paper — ironic, since I work for a copier distributor. But the glue sticks? I always remember those. Two things stand out in my mind about glue sticks, y’all: sticky mess that my children will inevitably try to lick off their hands and WHO THE HELL PAYS FIVE FREAKING DOLLARS FOR GLUE STICKS?
Have I ever told you guys that I’m notoriously cheap? No? Well, I’m cheap. About things like glue sticks, anyway. So excuse the hell out of me for thinking that $4.75 (practically $5) is a bit steep for glue. Glue that, knowing my five year old son, won’t make it even two weeks in to the school year. Also, it is abundantly clear that Mr. Elmer has monopolized the glue market on the back-to-school frontier since there are literally no generic (but equally good!) brands to be had around August 1st. It’s a phenomenon, really. Every year on August 1st, hundreds of generic (but equally good!) glue brands go amiss until school resumes and then BAM!. Those crafty little suckers are back on the shelf like they took a month long staycation. Anyway, I eventually bought the blasted things after a heated discussion with myself at Target. After a few side-eyes and uncomfortable throat clearings from fellow shoppers, I finally got over myself and tossed them (and a pair of scissors, for good measure) into my cart. The only other thing I find completely overpriced and ridiculous are backpacks.
backpack, (bak-pak) n.: a forty-five dollar zippered piece of fabric that will inevitably tear mid-year; a forty-five dollar zippered piece of fabric that children carry everything else in except what they are meant to carry; a “sound investment” that will get left at home “on accident” on the most inconvenient of days.
And have y’all seen some of the designs on said backpacks? They’re nuts! I was walking through Target the other day (another, other day.. I’m there too much), and saw a bag covered in donuts. DONUTS. I pity the girl walking around with a donut bag this year. I saw one that was shaped like Sponge Bob (..I can’t even) and another was a modified fanny-pack type thing that a newborn wouldn’t fit in. Yeah, that’s real efficient. Here, why don’t you make that thing useful and carry this torn-in-half tissue in there? Careful, now… don’t strain yourself.
Gabe’s only in first grade, so I still understand the whole school supply thing. And the list we had this year was, by comparison, not so bad. His pre-k list was outrageous. “Ms. Rose, I see here we need to fill out a form and send a check for one hundred dollars for NASA training? Th-that’s correct? Alllrighty then.” I had to buy glitter glue that year, y’all. GLITTER FREAKING GLUE. Ask me how many times Gabe came home looking like he’d tried to catch Tinkerbell. Go ahead. Ask me. I’m over it.. really, I am. But don’t ask me how long it took me to buy the glitter glue and please, for the love of Jesus and pronged folders, don’t ask me how hard I cried over the price tag.