Who needs a scrapbook?

 

An entire industry has grown up around moms wanting to remember the first tooth and the first birthday cake. Therefore, I can now buy specialty scissors that curve, make jagged edges or simulate torn edges. Stickers that add color to each page and background sheets that set the stage for selected photos are available at several retailers here. retailers here.

I have a trunk full of memories, not a scrapbook. I can't always tell which baby is which or what the occasion was because the photos aren't labeled, so I use other methods to savor those memories.

My kitchen junk drawer is also a treasure trove of memories. There's the baby tooth, actually a molar, in the cup with the safety pins. I remember quite clearly hunting for quarters in this drawer in the middle of the night and only finding dollar bills. That must have been when the tooth fairy gave the kids a raise.

Four pink buttons shaped like ballet shoes from my daughter's dance bag take up some of the space. They are going to go on a corduroy jumper I will make for my granddaughter. If I ever have one.

The chip out of the corner of the frame around the bird print over the couch - now that was a moment. It was a Frisbee toss by my other half, missed by my daughter and caught by my son as he leapt up, catching the edge of the picture frame on his jeans and ending up on the floor on top of the frame. We guessed that the landing took out the chip.

The brass tray: a landing strip for GI Joe's jet one winter. The dimple was proof that not all landings go as planned. The absence of a jade plant in my home reminds me of the GI Joe battle that took place in the branches of a large plant I splurged on in the days when splurges were rare. When the two boys finished the battle, the GIs had denuded the jade plant that responded by dying, despite emergency treatment. War is heck.

The "matching lamps on either side of the couch" was clearly a mistake. An errant football pass took the "match" out of that decorating touch, but maybe buying something labeled as a Blue Light Special excluded it from any decorating category.

The vacuum cleaner left permanent blue streaks on my favorite clay pot the day I thought it was a good idea to teach my son how to clean - part of an ongoing program to force adulthood on an unwilling, collegebound teen. What a rewarding time that was! How can you translate that into a scrapbook page?

The missing rabbit's nose is yet another "scrapbook page." My young daughter had a friend over, and they were making a carrot slicing machine out of a shoe box.

Somehow they thought my ceramic rabbit would like some sliced carrots and in the feeding attempt, the bunny bumped his nose on the brick walk.

Now when we feel nostalgic, instead of flipping scrapbook pages, we can visit the kids' belongings - stored in the attic, extra bedrooms and basement.