So, I’m one of the craft coordinators for my Mothers of Preschoolers group. But I didn’t like that name. So I renamed myself the Craft Diva.
I’m not exactly a diva. But I can aspire, right.
Last time we met I gave all of the women a rectangle of shrinky dink plastic. We embellished them and are going to make them into awesome key chains. I gave rather vague instructions at first because I assumed that every one of them had fond memories of shrinky dinking in their childhood.
I know I do.
In fact, if I was bored, my mom would pull out some random craft and let me go to town. I had more sets of colored cartoon character shrinky dinks than anyone else.
Even you, Miss KT-I-Made-a-Million-of-these-in-college.
Well, some of the girls were giving me strange looks and they asked some questions that made me realize that a tragedy had occurred. Out of the room of 30 peeps, only 4 or 5 of us knew what shrinky dinks were! THIS IS AWFUL! No, it’s not awful like real human rights tragedies or the fact that human traffiking is more active now than any other time in history. But, in the scope of small-things-that-don’t-really-matter-but-we-pretend-that-they-do, this is awful.
Which now begs the question: Do YOU know what shrinky dinks are?
Pictures of completed projects to come…..