Once your child enters elementary school, they are quickly introduced to the concept of “Box Tops.” I have no doubt that on the very first day, the teacher not only introduces herself and assigns desks but also emphasizes the significance of THE BOX TOP!
“MOM! It benefits our school!”
“Box Tops are funding our new gym!”
“Box Tops will take us to Sea World!!”
“Box Tops SAVE THE WORLD!!”
These are all (possibly exaggerated) claims my child has made while we navigate the grocery store aisles.
Now, before you assume I’m just an unsupportive parent (I might be a little unsupportive, but I do care for my child’s education), let me explain. My child has a perplexing skin condition that no one can quite diagnose. I’ve poured a considerable amount of money into various treatments, from conventional medicine to alternative remedies.
- Essential oils? Check.
- Steroid creams? Check.
- Blood tests? Check.
- Food allergies? CHECK.
However, have you ever noticed how few organic products have Box Tops? After thorough searching, I’ve found only a handful—FOUR. The best solution for my daughter’s itchy skin has been adhering to an organic diet. It’s cumbersome, costly, and quite frustrating. Nevertheless, she is my child, and I genuinely want her to be comfortable, so organic it is.
Organic = No Box Tops
No Box Tops = AWFUL PARENT WHO DOESN’T WANT HER CHILD TO GO TO SEA WORLD!
I can’t shake the feeling that corporations like General Mills and Sea World are conspiring against me. Sea World must have sensed my disinterest after watching Blackfish, knowing I’d never again buy a churro while watching the Shamu show, and now they’re targeting me with these insidious Box Tops.
To avoid being a completely negligent parent, I’ve resorted to shopping at Costco, filling my cart with items that come with Box Tops but won’t irritate my child’s skin—like Ziploc bags. Each trip, we stock up enough bags to create 6,000 sandwiches, and as soon as we get home, we destroy the boxes. My daughter then has her 12 Box Tops to take to school the following day, and for a moment, the world feels right. If there’s ever a shortage of Ziploc bags, you can bet I’ll be your supplier.
Recently, I’ve realized I no longer have space to store any more crushed Ziploc boxes. So, I’ve taken my quest for Box Tops further and started searching on eBay. Brilliant, right? Currently, I’m in a bidding duel for 500 Box Tops, holding the lead at $42.00.
After placing my highest bid for these cardboard cutouts that seem to be worth their weight in gold, I decided to look up their actual value.
TEN CENTS.
TEN. ABSOLUTELY. CENTS.
Had I known that each Box Top only translates to a ten-cent contribution, I would have simply given my child a dime every time we passed a cereal box with a Box Top. Seriously, wouldn’t it be easier just to hand your kid a handful of dimes during grocery runs?
No need to respond—I already know the answer.
Since I lost the bidding war to BoxTopMama123 on eBay, I’m pulling out the wrinkled twenty-dollar bill from my wallet, heading to the bank, and asking for exactly two hundred dimes. That should last me at least a year—after all, that equates to two hundred Box Tops.
For more insights on home insemination, check out our related blog post on the artificial insemination kit. Additionally, for comprehensive information on procedures, visit Mayo Clinic’s resource.
In summary, navigating the world of Box Tops can be quite the challenge for parents who prioritize healthy eating. The quest for these seemingly valuable pieces of cardboard often leads to humorous and frustrating situations, and sometimes, a simple dime would suffice.
Keyphrase: Box Tops and Parenting
Tags: [“home insemination kit”, “home insemination syringe”, “self insemination”]