It Started as a Lesson

It started as a lesson.

Growing up, each of my sons forgot items at home that they needed for school. Sometimes it was gym clothes, occasionally it was lunch, once in awhile it was a project. It happens. I would dutifully bring the forgotten item to their school on my way to work. No big deal.

For the most part, their forgetfulness was not a regular occurrence.

Until high school.

Something happens to the male teenage brain in high school- part of it stops working. The part of the brain that houses information on girls, sports, XBox codes and friends completely takes over, leaving the part of the brain that houses organization and tidiness empty.

One of my sons was more challenged than the other when it came to forgetting things at home.  A serial procrastinator, he never prepared for the next day the night before. He slept as late as he could and as a result, he tended to be a bit disorganized in the morning. Frequently, I would receive a text asking to bring this or that.  

HIs forgetfulness was becoming ridiculous  Something had to be done.

I could have refused to bring the forgotten item and let him suffer the consequences. But I had a better idea — Public Humiliation.  That sounded like much more fun.

Rather than simply dropping off the item in the office, I decided to deliver it with “love.”  I took a bag Ziplock bag and artfully decorated the outside.  I put hearts and wrote his childhood nickname along with, “Mommy Loves You” on it. I sealed the bag with curling ribbon in shades of pink and purple.  

 Problem solved.  He will NEVER forget anything again after receiving this.

If only….

Over the ensuing months, he continued to forget items, and each time, the item would arrive bedazzled.  Tennis shoes with unicorn stickers, a wallet wrapped in Sponge Bob wrapping paper, another Ziploc bag adorned with rainbow stickers and hearts.  He thought he was going to outsmart me and the bedazzling so when he left his football practice pants at home, he asked me to just drop them inside his truck because he “wouldn’t have time to run to the office.”  I obliged, but on the back of those pants sat a tiny little unicorn sticker.  

Eventually, the incidents of forgotten items slowed down, but never completely stopped. I know he hated sending those texts that he forgot something because he knew what was coming, even though he begged me NOT to bedazzle.  

Sorry son, you should be more organized.

He’s at college now, so needless to say, the days of him forgetting items and me rescuing him are over.  But the bedazzling is not.  It’s now our “thing.” He needed new pillow cases so on the package, I affixed the all-familiar unicorn sticker.  When I sent him his car tags in the mail, the envelope had “XXOO” and hearts on it.

It’s my way of saying, “I think about you… every day.  And every day…. I miss you.”