The bottom of a boy’s backpack can be a dangerous zone to enter. I just never know what will be lurking in the dark depths. Be warned, you probably won’t enjoy what you find either. Depending on which ‘hat’ my son is wearing on any given day will determine the level of gross will be bestowed upon me.
The Biologist – What should just be a fun visit to the park turns into a backpack bug fest. If it creeps or crawls, it will be enjoying its new home down in the darkness. Caterpillars and worms plus some mud or greenery would have been gleefully discovered and put into his backpack for safe keeping. Only problem is that these treasures get forgotten about as soon as we get home and I get to discover them on the other side of dead.
The Mechanic – Like any little boy, he loves things that run on batteries. I get that. If he thinks he can get away with not brushing his teeth because his new battery powered tooth brush is a very good for tool for toilet cleaning and the evidence has been hidden away in his backpack, I think not. This is where spiky, coiled, jagged and other bits, bobs and batteries lurk ready to attack the cuticles of an unsuspecting mum.
The Master Chef – You could be mistaken for thinking my son lives on meagre rations. Tasty morsels from the ground or foraged from the bin get hidden safely away for future snacking. Of course they never get eaten, just promptly forgotten about and left there to turn to stinky, rotten, fur growing delights that I have the pleasure of discovering. Let me tell you, there is nothing worse than a peanut butter and jam sandwich that’s spent a weekend mashing into a plastic dinosaur. Trust me.
The Hoarder – Everything is a prized possession! He can not throw anything out. The most incredible collection of junk calls his backpack home. It’s no surprise to find used tissues, dirty bandaids, muddy socks, squashed tin foil, the fondant train off last month’s birthday cake and the precious treasure that he found in the park – whatever that may be.
The Hydrologist – Fascinated by anything wet and watery, finds at the bottom of his backpack will be anything but dry. Tadpoles from the local creek, a frog from the garden or the pile of weeds freshly picked will feel right at home in his backpack. When the pet goldfish goes missing I can expect its new home to be in the moist darkness. This is especially true if he has one of those nifty waterproof backpacks that are designed to keep rain out…and tadpoles in. These are always the first choice when little men are up to no good.
Choosing the right pack for your son
I tried choosing a backpack with a design he loved, in the hope that he may not use it as a dumping ground for all things gross. The saving grace from little boy backpack revoltingness is the ability to machine wash and drip dry, so that it can be clean and fresh, at least for a few hours. Am I exaggerating about the grossness of the backpack? Maybe. BUT, all stories here are true, maybe I can’t blame every single one on Finlee’s backpack but they’re true of a boys backpack somewhere – maybe even your boy’s.