Sep 18, 2018 3 min read

My husband and I took a trip last week to Ohio to look at a couple of parts for his project car. I was off work, so we packed up the car and made a day of it. The second the kids were on the bus, we were in the car and headed west.

We tried to grab breakfast at a fast-food joint on the way out of town but were unable to get our order adequately translated to the drive-through worker, so we canceled it and grabbed it later in the voyage.

We had traveled for a couple of hours when we saw a sign for a large antiques mall that we had never shopped before, so we took the exit and headed for the building.

It was massive inside. I am not sure how to properly describe the size of the space, except to say that I was approached by another patron who asked me where we pick up the GPS units to help us find our way back to the front.

We wandered aisle after aisle of antique signs, vintage clothes, old toys, and more. I perused bookshelves full of old titles, picking a tome of historical fiction in which two Mennonite brothers choose different paths when they are drafted into World War I.

My husband’s tastes are different than mine. He likes antique carpentry tools, old metal and cast-iron signs, and vintage farm equipment. We walked for a few hours, pointing out our finds to one another and whittling our choices down to just a handful. I couldn’t resist bringing home a metal Holly Hobby lunch box, exactly the model that I carried my lunch to school in as a child.

We finally had to leave so that we could make it to the parts store before they closed. We had seen less than half of the antique store and could have walked the same aisles again and found new treasures. I found the parts store far less interesting, but my husband was in seventh heaven.

After what felt like an eternity in that place, we finished up and headed out for dinner. After that, we began a leisurely trip home.

We stopped for ice cream about an hour before arriving. An employee came out of the shop for a smoke break and pulled her cigarettes out of a small book bag with a cartoon unicorn on it. I chuckled at the sight.

My husband asked what was so funny, and I told him, “Just funny to see such an adult behavior coming out of a child’s bag.”

He laughed and rolled his eyes at me. “This coming from the girl planning on packing her lunch for work in a Holly Hobby lunch box next week.”

He got me there.

We made it home safely, contented with our time together and our purchases. I did begin carrying my lunch in my new/old lunch box. And when I open it up, I think about the girl with the unicorn backpack, and I smile.

Laura Zoeller can be reached at zoeller5@verizon.net.