Critter chose his backpack all by himself for school this year….it had to be a CERTAIN orange. Not just orange. And on the wild, wacky, wonderful world of internet shopping, we found HIGH-VISIBILITY (Holy-crap-it’s-in-your-face!) ORANGE backpacks on a motorcycle site.
For $35.00, I’m sold, man!
He has loved his backpack dearly. And, much to my pleasure around traffic, he is, indeed, highly visible!
But this backpack has had a repeat failing…the shoulder straps tear off at the top seam.
This is an issue.
Grandma Jane has fixed the bag once. But yesterday it failed again. And we couldn’t get the bag to Grandma on time tonight.
I was preparing to put all of Critter’s 4th grade essentials into my plain old rusty orange day hike pack, a plan with which he was most assuredly NOT on board, when My Captain came through the kitchen, plucked up his heavy-duty sewing kit he made for the firehouse, and grabbed Critter’s bag.
I said, “Aw!” and went about my merry way getting munchkins to bed.
An hour later, when all wee-ones were asleep, I came upon this:
A full hour later! This was a man intent on his mission.
A manly man. A firefighter. A Commander and Captain, a Paramedic, a Collapse Rescue Technician. An Ad Hoc Softball Coach. A greasy knuckled automobile brake changer. An axe wielding firewood splitter. A Chevy truck-driving, snow-plowing, tractor-steering MAN.
Sewing a 9-year-old boy’s backpack strap, because it’s the certain special orange that boy loves.
There is no punch line here. There is no smarmy remark to finish off this post. No pithy saying to sum it up.
It’s just the love of my life sewing my only son’s backpack.
That’s all it is.
And it’s enough.