This is a story that has a moral, a moral that most school districts do not understand. It is best explained in the words of this writer in this reblog post : ” So if finding the “right” bag of Goldfish helps to make her feel safe in a world that largely does the opposite, well, damn it, this family is headed to the ends of the earth (or every exit in between Ipswich and Boston) to find it.
There’s always going to be the concern about the message that all of these machinations send to my kid. Questions about the long-term lessons that she’ll take from our efforts. A debate about whether or not we’re coddling her, or not preparing her for the “real world,” whatever that might be.
But at the end of the day, here’s the message that I see in this story … that she’s so desperately loved that the people around her will go to ridiculous lengths to make her happy (just as we do for each other, because, ya know … family.)”
Last Sunday, Brooke and I went to the beach. It was just the two of us, and it was awesome. I wrote about it HERE.
On the way home from the beach, Mama was tired. Tired enough that I began to worry about myself on the highway. So I told Brooke we were making a pit stop. I veered off at the nearest exit and we pulled into the closest gas station. We went into the minimart and searched for a snack for each of us and, most importantly, a soda for Mama. I don’t know what it is about soda, but I just can’t get sleepy while ingesting bubbles.
We grabbed our stash – a Sprite Zero and a hundred calorie bag of veggie sticks for me (oh yes I did) and a bag of Pepperidge Farm Goldfish and a water for the little one. And we were…
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