I still have my grade school lunchbox, a metal Holly Hobbie number from Aladdin. It was made in 1979, and likely purchased in 1980 when I was five-years-old by my mom for me as I started kindergarten. I used it for at least ten years, and ever since my mom has kept it for me. It even still has my name written on a piece of paper taped to the top in my mom's handwriting.
I love the schoolyard rules printed on the inside and the fact that I still have the thermos. We recently got this from my mom's storage after all these years and Lucy was thrilled to take it with her to first grade, although she has no idea who that girl with the big blue bonnet on the front is.
It was strange to discover how much larger our plastic tubs are these days, which, not surprisingly, indicates how much our portions have grown since the 70s. However, Lucy is a small eater and, like many six-year-olds, super picky. She likes her lunch packed bento-style, with things in small containers, like slices of ham, mini carrots, and baby dill pickles. Instead of pulling my name tag off, we added a new sticker with her name written in my handwriting. After school she told me that the thermos leaked her water all over, so the janitor had taken it away to clean it up. My heart skipped a beat, as I found myself suddenly quite concerned about the whereabouts of my beloved childhood container. She got it back, wiped clean, the very next day, with both our nametags still attached, marking the love between generations of brown-eyed grade school girls and their mothers.