I saw the homework folder neatly tucked in the backpack and decided it was safe to zip the big pocket. The sound of merging metal teeth brought seven-year-old Thing2 flying out of his room and into the living room.
“Wait!” he shrieked. “I left something in there!”
“What is it?” I ducked, trying to avoid his flapping arms.
“It’s going to snow today!” Thing2 unzipped the big pocket an pulled out his red satin cape.
“You’re not taking that?” I scratched my head, not even remembering seeing it a few minutes earlier.
“No.” Thing2 now unfurled the cape on the couch and then extracted his army green third-hand snow pants from the same pocket.
“Of course I don’t need it now.” Realizing I still have a lot to learn about the fashion rituals of the average rainbow-wigged superhero in the country, I popped the lunchbox into the front pocket and zipped entire the pack closed again.
“Well then,” I said, “leave the cape, but pack the cannoli.”
“Huh?”
“The pretzels,” I said, “pack the pretzels.”
“Obviously I was taking the pretzels,” he said trotting out his favorite new adult buzzword and demonstrating once again that I have am achieving true wisdom because when it come to the inner working of my youngest child’s mind, I know nothing.
