Like these bad boys:
What's that? You're not impressed?!
I should have seen that coming.
You see, the thing about me? I have a fetish for vintage schoolhouse stuff. Wait, does "fetish" only apply if it's some kind of sexual preference? I think it might. In which case, I definitely do not have a schoolhouse fetish. I just really really like it.
Which is kinda weird, considering that I haaaaated elementary school. I mean, ugly-cried every morning and begged my mom not to make me go to Mr. Clymer's class. (I called that one, though. He totally ran off with one of my classmate's moms that year. Bad egg.) I was the fat kid who got teased all the time. Which is weird, cause I wasn't really a fat kid. Now I am the fat kid, and people don't really tease me for it. At least not to my face. Go figure.
Ahem. Anyway. I digress.
Don't these trays remind you of your elementary school days (before they started hating the earth and using stryofoam)? Can't you just picture the little chocolate milk box and the little pizza rectangle (wait- maybe I was the fat kid.), all nestled sweetly into their own little space?
They make me smile, in all of their pee-yellow and puke-orange glory (there's more colors, but that friend, is another amazing post). Next I am totally getting a hair-net and doling out mashed potatoes with an ice cream scoop. Oh yes, I am.
My kids think they are the shiz-stinking-nit. Smart kids.
God love the Goodwill, for making this schoolhouse-