Only in my family would something like this happen...
Xavier has been learning about recycling in school, and was given a really fun, creative assignment.
The assignment was to come up with an invention that would help others or make tasks easier using recycled materials around the house. He had a packet to fill out with brainstorming on possible inventions, a description of his invention, and how his invention would be useful.
When we first noticed him scrounging around the house, carrying a broom, we asked him what he was doing.
"I'm making an invention."
This kid does stuff like this all the time. He's the invention guy. We hadn't seen the packet yet (bad mom for not checking his backpack that day) and told him, "Cool, make your invention, but put the broom back."
He protested a bit, but put the broom back and never mentioned a school project.
Later he told us that his invention was a helmet with a flashlight on it to protect your head and help you see in the dark. Evidently this was a new concept to him. We praised his ingenuity and went on about our business.
The next day as he was working on homework, I noticed the packet.
Well, what do you know? He really DID have to come up with an invention.
He had already mapped it out on his paper and answered all the questions. He planned to use strong tape to attach a flashlight to a bike helmet.
Totally doable.
So the packet and invention were due today. He had forgotten that he had to actually make the invention to show to his teacher, so I got him up early and we got to work.
He shuffled through the mass of stuffed Carebears (thanks grandma and grandpa!), Rescue Heroes, Hotwheels, and Burger King Star Wars toys (yes, we paid the $2.95 to get extras...we now have 6 of those things) to find his Spiderman bike helmet buried in the green plastic crate that serves as a toy box.
I had tons of sturdy packaging tape left over from Adrian's deployment.
We began to hunt for the cheap old red flashlight that is on top of the refrigerator every single day except for today.
While he ate Strawberry Honeycombs, I searched every drawer, every closet, under every bed and couch in the house, and came up empty-handed. I looked in the garage. I looked in the laundry room. The flashlight that was ALWAYS on top of the fridge was MIA.
I found a mini maglite on the ledge near the door where small (and often necessary) items go to die.
We strapped it on to the helmet, and it looked great. Mission accomplished, right?
Oh, no, that would be too easy.
The flashlight didn't work. I substituted every (mostly dead) battery in the house for the AA it contained, and still could not get it to work. I found a bright blue mini maglite in the junk drawer and thought maybe I had something, only to discover that it was missing the whole top lighting portion.
Desperate, I ran upstairs and began rummaging through the bags Adrian brought home from his deployment. They are filled with all sorts of interesting gear with all sorts of kinky uses, and I was pretty sure there had to be a serviceable flashlight in one of them.
I found a large green military flashlight and pushed the button up. Nothing.
I continued to dig until my hand hit something cool and cylindrical.
Yes!
It was a flashlight.
Yes!
It was of appropriate size!
Yes!
It worked!
It even had an additional blue tinted light.
Xavier and I got to work taping the new flashlight to his helmet. The plan worked perfectly, and in no time he had the helmet strapped on and a beautiful light beaming out from it.
I warned Xavier that the flashlight was Daddy's work flashlight and it HAD to come back home. No problem.
Adrian got home for breakfast and I explained to him what I had done. "It's cool. He can use my flashlight," he said. Then I described the flashlight to him. The different colored lighting. The funny sideways switch.
As it turns out, this isn't just any flashlight.
This is a $90 Phantom flashlight.
Only in my family could we come up with a recycling project worth over $100.