Mama’s old school lunchbox.
After checking the prices of some of the vintage lunchboxes here, and here, I’m thinking in the future we should handcuff her wrist to the handle on the dang thing. Â
For the x-treme lunch box fetishist, a timeline.
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[It’s A month o’ photos at LD. Here for just words? Please check back in June 1.]
Pearl’s into Scooby Doo lately. She can watch it on YouTube. As a kid, it was my favorite, but I never had the lunchbox.
My beloved would have probably gladly traded you for a Barbie one, I’m afraid. Or a Josie and the Pussycats one. Me, I had a Lancelot Link Secret Chimp one, and a Monkees one. I never got over the tragedy of my milk going sour in the Monkees’ thermos and my mom saying we had to chuck it. This might be why I’m partial to my son’s long bangs: the ghost of Peter Tork.
Oooo…so cutting edge! Retro lunch boxes are very cool.
An added bonus! Since her cloth one — you know the kind, lined with vinyl inside, you have to look for 10 minutes to find one that’s not gender-coded, etc. etc. — tore on the inside, after just one year of preschool use. By a deciedely NOT gonzo eater. Cheap thing. We looked in the cupboard for a suitable alternative, and there, staring at us from the foggy depths of decades past was Mama’s very own lunchbox from her youth. Voilá! Our daughter gets food and social caché in one and the same gesture!
Now if only the children could stop getting spooked by the headless horseman.
One of the bonuses of cleaning out the basement was finding two of my daughter’s old lunch boxes. One was Curious George, the other PeeWee’s Playhouse. Score! Definitely saving those for the future grandchild!