Vol. 24 - The Contents of a Little Boy's Backpack

I love making lists (odd, considering how much I hate listicles).

My story ideas. The things I eat on tour. Baby names. Band names. My favorite books/records/movies/1990s wide receivers*.

I love the way lists provide a relatively comprehensive snapshot of how I am feeling at any moment in time, the things I think are important, the things I hold dear.

And now, they can provide a snapshot of the things my son holds dear, the things that, at any given moment in time, are most important to him.

The other night, after we came home from a park session and he darted in the house with his mom and little sister, I stayed behind, straightening up our truck, organizing as best I could.

Left behind, as it almost always is, was his little blue backpack (“packpack” in his parlance). I rooted through it, wondering if it might give me some more insight into his mind that fascinates me so. And, as I am often wont to, I made a list of what my four-year-old son considers worthy enough of semi-permanent placement in his beloved blue packpack.

— Seven Hot Wheels cars

— Three rocks

— One pinecone

— Two extra pairs of underwear

— A pair of children’s sunglasses

— A pair of adult’s sunglasses

— One board book

— One coloring book

— Two crayons (blue and orange)

— Two hair ties (also blue and orange)

— One bundle of pine needles (unrelated to the pine cone)

— A watch that he broke at least two years ago

— One pen

— A single sock

— One Sharpie (contraband, as he knows he’s not allowed to fuck with Sharpies. Of course, I left it in there).

— One toilet paper roll (the part with the spring)

— A flashlight (batteries dead)

Most of the packpack’s contents are things my son will never need. But they were carefully selected and placed in their for a reason. Rocks to give to his mom. A flashlight in case it suddenly gets dark. One sock, just in case.

But their utility is not the point. Or maybe it is. Maybe the utility of these things is to give my son joy, comfort, and the solace that comes with knowing some of the things he loves will always be at the ready in his little blue packpack.

Of course, everything had to go back exactly how and where it was, because my son—as do most four-year-olds—knows exactly what is in his packpack and exactly where everything should be placed. After all, these are some of his most important possessions. Otherwise, they never would have made it into his packpack.

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*Stephen Baker, Joey Galloway, Herman Moore, Ricky Proehl, Ed McCaffrey, Andre Rison, Amani Toomer, Tim Brown, Ike Hilliard