CARRIER BAG KIDS

 

 

 

Put your hands up all those people who used to laugh at their mother's stash of carrier bags (which were usually kept under the kitchen sink!)! Well, the last laugh is on them...put your hands up if you now have your own stash!

 

Since the implementation of the Government's bag charge, I now probably have more money invested in my kitchen cupboard than I have in my own bank account! Carrier bags of all different shapes, sizes, thicknesses and brands mount a deadly attack every time I open the cupboard door...but this is not the only reason why I hate and detest those dastardly carrier bags!

 

Firstly, I dread 1.00pm on Saturdays when my darling daughters are dropped off by their father. Why? Because it is the same routine every weekend. He arrives and the girls jump happily out of the car and disappear into the house in search of their tablets in order to film their latest Musical.ly...leaving me to retrieve their belongings from the boot of his Mazda (with the personalised number plate that no-one actually realises is personalised unless it is explained to them!). 

 

The boot opens and I am greeted by the sight of lunch bags and book bags...and carrier bags! You might be wondering what the problem with this is, and you may well have decided by now that I suffer with an irrational fear of carrier bags (which incidentally is a recognised phobia known as Plastybolsaphobia!)...well, let me explain. These carrier bags are not packed! Don't get me wrong, they do have some of the girls belongings in them, but the rest of their clothes are strewn across the boot. So I stand there waiting (and cringing!) as he screws up various items of school uniform (which are more than likely still dirty and stained with the remnants of last night's dinner) and thrusts them into the offending bags which I then have to lug into the house on my own.

 

Once these bags are deposited into the kitchen, it's onto task two - emptying and sorting them. Now, I am no Maths genius, but even I can count in multiples of three. Three girls = three blazers, three shirts, three skirts, three vests, three pairs of knickers, six socks and six shoes. But is this what I find in the mountain of bags? No! One child is clearly blazerless, one child is knickerless...and one child is clearly hopping to school on Monday in her one shoe! Cue several text messages to ascertain the whereabouts of the missing items, and to arrange for them to be returned.

 

So, the bags are emptied and introduced to their fellow carrier bags under the kitchen sink, while I get on with the task of washing and ironing their previous contents as the ex-husband doesn't do washing and ironing (and never did when I lived with him). 

 

On a lighter note, I was reduced to hysterical laughter last weekend when my ex-husband requested the return of one of the carrier bags that he had brought the girls' school uniform over in. Why? Because it was a Lakeland carrier bag that belonged to his mother! Obviously it had significantly more value that my mere Tesco carrier bags! But you do have to bear in mind that his mother is a real-life Hyacinth Bucket, who has mint imperials in a bowl in the hallway (for visitors only...not family!) and a specific knife that is for butter only (How posh is that?!).

 

I must admit, however, that I am probably guilty of committing a similar offence, as I only send the step-munchkins clothes back in the cheap blue carrier bags from the local corner shop! However, in my defence, the Evil Queen is just as bad as she insists on returning things in the same carrier bag as they went in (unless she has been shopping at somewhere slightly more expensive, using the spousal maintenance mentioned in my previous blog!)! For the love of God, they are just carrier bags!!

But what has this got to do with my blog?

Well, in an article in The Guardian, a sixteen year old girl was quoted as saying "Having two homes is like putting your life in a couple of carrier bags every week".

We need to remember that, for those children with separated parents, moving between homes can be a traumatic experience. They are reduced to dragging their favourite teddies, clothes and important mementoes from one house to another in a carrier bag....be it Waitrose, Tesco, Aldi or Lakeland! The step-boychild was most upset when his things were being returned to his mother in a carrier bag via his coat peg at school, as kids were taking the Mickey out of him, so we stopped this and ensured that they were always delivered directly to the Evil Queen. My advice....buy them a bag so that they can transport their belongings without them feeling that they have the sentimental value of a loaf of bread!

When things go missing, it is a loss to them, and many of them feel that is their responsibility. These are children and these are their lives and memories. As an English teacher, I remember being reduced to tears by a child who was in care. He delivered a presentation to me about being in care, and told me how the worst thing about it was the fact that he always seemed to lose something important to him every time he moved from one place to another. They are children and, as adults, it is our responsibility to make sure that they have what they need and what is theirs.

Then we also need to remember that things don't belong to a house or a parent, they belong to the child. Their favourite clothes don't exist in one place...they belong to the child. Their favourite teddy doesn't just provide comfort in one place...it is something that makes them feel safe and secure wherever they are.

So, ditch the carrier bags, drop the "I paid for this so it belongs here" attitude, and realise that the children are not simply "Carrier Bag Kids".

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