Bag it.

by - September 28, 2010

This morning as I was getting my son ready for Mom’s Morning Out, I pulled out some fresh pull-ups and he promptly told me, “No, I want to wear these” - these being his Lightning McQueen and Mater underpants. This was a pretty big moment because ever since the baby was born, Scooby has resisted underwear showing a strong preference for the pull-ups, even preferring them over being naked. I thought all little boys preferred to run around naked, but not this kid.

So I swung into gear getting his backpack ready now with two extra pairs of underwear, pants, and headed into the kitchen for a plastic bag for potential accidents that might occur at school. I reached my hand under the kitchen sink and pulled out a wad of plastic Wal-Mart bags. I paused. I reached back under the sink and pulled out a wad of Target bags.

A Target bag would be classier than a Wal-Mart bag.

Yes, that thought actually cross my mind. In what universe do reused grocery bags and the word "classy" mingle? - Apparently in my head. It makes complete sense to me that a teacher would pull out a Wal-mart bag for my son's urine soaked pants and think, "Tisk, tisk. They are a Wal-mart family. That explains so much", but would think upon pulling out a Target bag, "I knew that mama was hip!" While we are on the subject of the absurd, why did I even care? Last week I had some huge revelation that I should rise above the pettiness of female comparison and wear my (lack of) style with pride, and there I was pondering which brand of bag would make me look less like a hick.

As I came back inside from loading the car, Scooby was standing by Wookie's car seat trying to pick him up and whining, “Help! Need to take Wookie!” My sweet little boy was worried I was going to forget to load up his brother. I was caught in my moment shameful insecurity by my little boys reminding me of the things that matter – love, family, the excitement of them reaching new milestones as their little lives go whizzing by, and not forgetting the baby.

After dropping Scooby off at school, I reflected on the morning and how fortunate I was to have any grocery bags under my sink. It meant we were fed. I was blessed to be able to take him to a program at all and have a few hours just to lavish love on the baby. I am so thankful for a God that forgives me of my ingratitude and a Savior that offers to take my cold stingy heart and make it generous and warm.

(I should add that he came home dry and no bags were needed!)

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  1. I mean, you wouldn't want people to know that you don't boycott Wal-Mart, right? Makes total sense to me.



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