I believe life sometimes gives us a little wink when we’re lost, confused, or unsure what comes next. Which is helpful, because sometimes my inner child takes the steering wheel, and we should not always trust her judgment.
The day Latchkey Kids Slime Co. began, I was headed to a storage unit about two blocks from my house. It’s where all the things I can’t quite let go of live until I feel emotionally prepared to make decisions.
On the way, I passed a dumpster with “Dreamcatcher” graffitied across it.
I thought it was hysterical. I didn’t realize it was also foreshadowing.
I gathered a huge pile of clothes, including designer pieces and plenty with the tags still attached, and headed to a resale shop. I had already imagined the impressive stack of cash that would reward me for finally letting things go. Personal growth, extra space, financial prosperity. Look at me, handling life.
Then they called my name.
“We’re taking six items. Here’s nine dollars.”
One dress alone still had its hundred-dollar tag attached.
My brain briefly stopped working. But there was a person waiting for an answer, and apparently my answer was yes.
As he slid my nine dollars across the counter, I noticed a plastic container beside the register. Inside were tiny dumpster charms.
With flames coming out of them.
Of course there were.
A dumpster labeled Dreamcatcher on the way there. Tiny dumpster fires waiting at the finish line. My big payday had become nine dollars, barely enough to buy anything, but absolutely enough to buy a handful of those ridiculous little charms.
It felt like the universe had seen the whole thing coming and prepared a joke to soften the landing.
So I did what any perfectly reasonable woman in her 40s would do: I bought as many tiny dumpster fires as I could.
And that was the push that turned my slime-making hobby into Latchkey Kids Slime Co.
Because after a day like that, I already knew what I wanted to do: sink my hands into my favorite slime. Twist it. Stretch it. Give my hands something satisfying to do while the frustration loosened its grip. Let the day soften a little with every pull.
If you grew up a latchkey kid, maybe you understand.
Our food pyramid featured frozen dinners, Pop-Tarts, and Capri Suns. The after-school menu depended heavily on what we could prepare without burning down the house while our parents were away.
Some of us were also put in charge of younger siblings, thrilled to have authority, less thrilled to discover it came with actual responsibility.
We figured things out. We got creative. We grew up.
Supposedly.
Now I’m raising my own children while still learning how to care for the younger versions of myself. Parenting has a special talent for bringing those versions out. Your child throws a fit, and somewhere inside you, your own three-year-old self would also like to lie on the floor and make a compelling argument through screaming.
Unfortunately, you’re the adult in the room.
So you take a breath. You handle what needs handling. And hopefully, somewhere in the day, you find a little room for yourself.
For me, that room includes fun, whimsy, nostalgia, and slime. Even in my 40s. Especially in my 40s.
Latchkey Kids Slime Co. is for the grown-ups who still need to play. The parents raising their children and their inner children simultaneously. The people who can laugh at a tiny dumpster fire because, honestly, it’s been that kind of Tuesday.
Share it with your kids. Keep a favorite jar for yourself. Let something be silly and satisfying without needing to justify it.
Call it my midlife crisis. Call it a coping mechanism. Call it real life.
The kids are alive. I showered today.
I’m calling that a win.
Latchkey Kids Slime Co. Same playlist. Different problems. Slime for your inner child.
