As you know our #2 is a girl. She is the kind of girl that must have every minute of every day planned and occupied with activities. She is in band, dance, sports, the middle school play. I am her underpaid over worked chauffeur, laundress and chef.
We (I) attempt to keep each activity organized in their own string bag, duffle, backpack so that we are not always loading and unloading said bags. That just leaves school, which is after all her primary occupation at this time in her life, or so we keep telling her. "School" things go in her backpack. It is a huge pink monstrosity that is half as big as her and probably weighs as much.
Now there are things in this backpack that I'm sure have been in there for over a year. This girl is a Magpie. Any little piece of paper, sparkly object, something pink, glittery, you get the idea. Her particular weakness seems to be pencils, Yes I said pencils.
I know and most people over the age of 30 know that pencils are usually yellow writing utensils with a red eraser on the top. Of course if you are younger than me, which most people seem to be, pencils are a growth industry.
They have pencils for every holiday, pink camouflage, Tinker Bell, NFL teams, GI Joe. There are infinite possibilities. They come home in every 'goodie bag' from every party. Kids give and exchange them as gifts. It is insane! This is a particular sticking point between my husband and #2. Her hoarding manifests in pencils. Like any self respecting invasive species she seems to shed pencils as she moves through the house. There is at least one pencil in every room of the house, every closet, under all pieces of furniture. They explode from her back pack and seem to crawl from her bedroom under their own power. Side note; none of them has a usable eraser or a lead sharp enough to write with.
How do I know they belong to her you ask? I mean there are 4 other people living in the house. I refer you back to her Magpie tendencies. The offending objects are usually pink, purple possibly green. they are covered with hearts, fairies, kittens or butterflies. Suffice it to say they belong to #2.
One particular frustration fueled exchange between #2 and my husband went something like this. "One day the neighbors are going to call the police because they haven't seen you for a few days and you will be found in a house filled with pencils. You will be using the pencils to heat the house. You will be the Crazy Pencil Lady!". #2's response was an anticlimactic, "Ok, Dad." It effectively ended the conversation.
This is yet another find from the unpublished archives. Added bonus is a trip down memory lane as #2 prepares to leave her first job, teaching at an inner city public school to relocate 2 states away. This move will take place with the reluctant help of her younger brother and her father. (I sadly-read sarcasm-am working) Her father is much put upon (although he would have it no other way) this is communicated by him continually saying, "Don't you have friends? (she does) Your mother and I had friends come and help us load the truck, fed them beer and pizza and we were on our way. We're getting too old to be moving you people around."
As with all things there are moments when she brings me bride's maids dresses to alter, asks me to film her color guard routines that she is now choreographing and being paid for free lance, when she asks me, "Can you please watch my cat until I'm fully moved?" that I think, if only it was as easy as asking her to pick up a few wayward pencils.
-Epilogue-
It has probably been at least 12 years since the original portion of this post was written. We have 4 collective moves under our belts. Ours including a cross country move and hers to a first apartment living on her own. Yesterday I found a Valentine pencil, -we have been in this newly built house for less than a year- unsharpened, it does have a usable eraser. Time is not a linear thing.
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