As I was packing my lunch for my miserable, miserable job tomorrow, I started thinking about things that seemed really important when I was a kid.

This stroll down memory lane was initiated by a recent-running-out-of-paper-bags-event at my house. I had to substitute a plastic bag to contain tomorrow's lunch. I remembered when this sort of thing happened when I was 10 or so years old.

"MOM! WE'RE OUT OF PAPER BAGS" I would inform my mother.
"Just use a grocery bag."
"NO! I CAN'T!"

Mom did not get it. I absolutely could not show up to 5th grade the next day with my lunch in a plastic bag. All the kids would think my family was weird or something. Nor could I put my sandwich in a fold-over baggie, since everyone else had their pb&js in ziplock brand baggies. Nor could I use Roseart brand markers. Everyone else had crayola. They would think my family was poor or something.

I act as if these things were absolutes, but they were quite not for the following reasons: 1. my mother pinches pennies 2. she did not care about my grade school rep. And a result, I was sent to the first day of school with generic brand glue when everyone else had Elmer's, and 10 cent notebooks when everyone else wrote in 5 Star.

Did these things really matter? Was I oblivious to all the mean things the people inside the Spacemaker crowd said about the outsiders? Or did the Spacemaker kids even care? Did I just think they cared because I didn't have one?

Beside all of this, I think I turned out okay. Right?