It was right before spring break when my oldest began pressuring me for a new water bottle.
She started by holding up her cobalt blue Stanley tumbler, the one she “had to have” two Christmases ago.
“I don’t know why I ever wanted this thing. It doesn’t even work,” she said, shaking her head as she waved around the bottle she’d once affectionately called Bluebird.
“What do you mean it doesn’t work? It’s a Stanley! It will last forever!” I said, laughing at her absurdity. “Bluebird is fine. Nothing’s wrong with it.”
She shook her head.
I frowned.
Could a stainless steel vessel lose its ability to keep water cool in less than two years? I knew the answer was “no.”
Despite this, I also knew that when my daughter wanted something, she could be quite convincing. I braced myself for her argument, which she happily provided.
“Maybe Bluebird still technically works, but it just makes no sense to me. The straw leaks everywhere. The tumbler was a bad idea.”
At this, I nodded. “I told you that when you first wanted it. That’s why I bought you the sport bottle first.”
Then I went into the cabinet and pulled out said sport bottle, a long sleek Stanley in a slightly lighter blue.
Again, she shook her head. “That one gets so moldy. It’s hard to clean.”
While I was fairly certain the mold cleaning was my problem, not hers, I let it go. “What about the Stanley we got in the fall? The neon green one with the flip top?”
She shrugged. “It’s a little dented.”
At this point, I gave up, certain that the rest of the water bottles in our cabinet – the smaller Stanley flip-tops, the older aqua Yeti – would also be unacceptable.
“So what are you thinking then?” I asked, eager to hear what new water bottle technology had caught her eye.
She pretended to think. “An Owala. Yes, it has to be an Owala. Their tops are so much better for drinking.”
I tried not to laugh. “But isn’t an Owala just another stainless steel water bottle?”
“Yes, but it’s better! The top has a button! And there are so many cute accessories!”
Cuter than the Stanley accessories tucked in my cabinet? I wondered.
But, not in the mood to argue over water bottle fashion, I remained quiet, instead telling her the same thing I tell all my children when they insist on semi-frivolous purchases.
“If you use your own money, you can have it.”
So she did – and three days later, she was the proud owner of a light yellow Owala with a teal button; her old Stanleys were quickly gifted to her little sister, who still thought they were cool.
Over the next few months, I began to notice that others were also switching to Owala. There were fewer Stanleys lined up at gymnastics practice and more moms clutching neon Owalas at the ball fields.
Until one afternoon when, old Stanley in hand, I noticed a group of moms laughing over their identical Owalas.
Clearly, I had missed the memo. Or, more accurately, I’d failed to listen to it.
For a split second, I panicked, ashamed of the incorrect vessel dangling from my hand. But with a blink, I recovered a chuckle building in my chest.
When it comes to daily life, I’ve always used things until they were well past saving. Like the washing machine, we repaired ourselves for years. Or my favorite summer shorts I’ve worn every season since 2016.
When I find something I like, I stick with it, eschewing trends for personal taste and practicality. It had been a big deal for me to buy my kids Stanleys after falling in love with Yeti a decade earlier.
And so, while I respected my daughter’s need to follow the ever-changing water bottle trends, I also knew this was one trend I had no interest in chasing. Instead, I would continue to fill my Yetis and cast-off Stanleys, along with the many knock-offs I’d collected at Marshalls.
I would fill them until they weren’t fillable, just like I used most things.
Yet even as I told myself this, I knew there were more Owalas in our future. Soon, there would be a new model that my daughter just “had to have.” I decided I was okay with another Owala making its way under our Christmas tree.
She’s almost a teenager. At least water bottles are cheaper than Abercrombie jeans, I told myself, remembering back to my own teenage obsessions.
Then, I filled her water bottle for practice right as I told her about my idea for this blog.
Hearing of my idea, she just shook her head. “Mom, I kind of have the feeling Owalas are on the way out.”
“On the way out?” I said. “But you just got it! What’s on the way in?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know yet. But it’s definitely not Owala.”
“Well, let me know once you figure it out,” I said. “I’ll make a note for Christmas.”
