I like shopping for groceries late at night - after all my boys are asleep (or at least have no demands on me) and the stores are practically empty. I take a bit of time to go and look through greeting card section (buying those is a sort of hobby), and I am finding that I like listening to the sappy romantic songs that get played on the PA system, though the Pathmark I used to go to before we moved tended to play the Beatles, which was even better.

This has been your random elfinithought, brought to you by Late Night Grocery Run.

I'm going to act like there was no eon-long break in my posts and just waltz right back in with a story of my (now-eldest) son's (henceforth known as D1) epic grapple with his backpack yesterday.

As it happens all too often, he just threw his backpack into his room, trusting it to land somewhere out of the way (which it didn't) and rushed off to dinner. Then he had to go somewhere, and later we went shopping for more school clothes - he chose a black hoodie, and another black hoodie, and a black technical sports under-layer, and another black technical under-layer. And some gum. Not black, but that's probably because there wasn't any black gum for sale.
The point is, he didn't get back to his room until after dark. Upon walking in, he promptly tripped over the poor backpack, and went thunderously down - hitting his desk, dresser, and the floor. When I rushed in, estimating how fast I can get him to emergency room, I found him sitting on the floor, cursing at his backpack and nursing his shin.
I rationally pointed out that his backpack wasn't at fault, but D1 disagreed vehemently and supported his statement by picking up the offending accessory and throwing it further into the room. Then I said,
"Dude! it's not like the backpack did it on purpose!"
D1: "Yes it DID! GRR!"
Me: "Oh, right. You put it under your desk, safely out of the way, and it crawled out and laid in the doorway in ambush, waiting for you."
D1, in a slightly better mood: "That's right. I had it tucked away, and it sneaked out."
Me: "Ok, then, what's the lesson we learned today?"
D1: "It's not my fault!"
Me: "The lesson is, 'Tie down your backpack better, so it does not escape and own you via trippage.' "

D1 agreed that it was, in fact, an acceptable life lesson, and family peace was achieved. Ice was applied to damaged shins, and later on I overheard D1 threatening his backpack in a really creative and witty way. I think Chuck Norris was mentioned. I love my teen.