Liam has had the lunchbox on the left since elementary school. He's finishing up his sophomore year of high school. It's seen better days, to say the least. The firstborn cleaned out the bedroom (Mom, I can hear you rejoicing) and donated two mostly unused lunchboxes (yay, pandemic, no school for forever) to the kitchen island. They're stored in the pantry, but whatever. So the man child ambles along and does a dead stop. "Ooooh. Mine!" Promptly swipes it and begins removing tags.
Hellooooooo, new lunchbox.
And farewell, good and faithful servant, who was dispatched straightaway to the trash bin outside and collected, fortunately without needing a Hazmat suit.
Yes, that is duct tape. Our children are nothing if not individuals.
Liam just wandered past, yet to start his school day, and exclaimed, "what!? You pitched it already?! I didn't even get to say goodbye. Wah!"
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