Pulling up at school each morning, Ian and I get out of the car within a normal, realistic amount of time, and proceed to begin to wait for Emma to emerge. After several minutes of standing by the car and waiting for her, the door opens and she spills out. She has stuff. Lots of stuff. Bedroom stuff…backpack stuff…portable stuff… I do not know if this is typical of all 10 year old girls, but it is for Emma. There really is no other way to describe these bits and trinkets she finds important enough to carry with her.