My son's Iroquois village is finally done. It has been so in the center
of our family life (and in the center of our entry foyer) this past week
that it will be a little sad to send it in to school tomorrow.
Between the making and the sending to school, however, comes the step of
packing it to get to school safely. It would be terrible for any of my
son's work to get crushed or jostled or collapsed, so it is now up to
me to find the right bag that will protect it, but fit on the school
bus. That will be small enough for my son to manage, but big enough to
contain the creation. The hard work and creativity may have gone into
the making of the thing, but, as in life, the making isn't worth much
without the delivery.
So, tonight (well, tomorrow
morning, since paint touch ups were done before bed), I will be mining
through the plastic bag collection my husband always considers a waste
of apartment space. There may be plastic wrap, there may be aluminum
foil, and in the end, there may be a cab to school because I just can't
let go. One way or the other, I will make sure the delivery goes well,
because (okay, I can't resist this) delivery is one of the things moms
do best.
All puns aside, if you invest your time and creativity into something
(and my son has), you make sure it delivers. And delivers well.
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