Where did all the water bottles go?

It really worries me that kids these days carry little water sippers for a whole day of school.
I remember lugging around a red and yellow, one litre water bottle of Milton (the most popular water bottle manufaturing company in the 90s) with a blue cup on top. I hated that it was so badly colour co-ordinated and that I had to carry it in addition to my backpack but I made sure I drank all that water through 9am - 4pm, no matter how many stinky loo breaks it took me, so that I got back home with an empty bottle.
Is this a family-parent issue?
Because I honestly don't think any parent is discouraging their child from drinking too much water.
Kids play, kids sweat, kids do PT, kids need to get out of class every now and then for a loo break, kids need to distract themselves from what's going on in class so that they can have a sip of water.
Are you listening to me mummies and daddies?
Don't fall for the cheap little sippers that the supermarkets are offering. Those are for the housewives to drink from while they shop. They might be attractive and have Barbie on them but they're not for your kids. I trust you know how to raise your children and certainly want the best for them so as the new academic year starts I sincerely hope that you buy your child a nice, big water bottle, one that's well colour co-ordinated. Please.

My Perfect Memory of 1989 - '91

I remember it very perfectly.
Those dirty khakhi tiles and brick roof,
Flanked by yellow, blue and red wooden posts at either end,
With little semi circular seats,
That seated four of us six year olds,
And our colorful double-decker tiffin boxes.
The IA classroom at corridor end - left,
And my kindergarten class at the other end - right,
From where we pushed opened our big blue door,
And peeked into the long brown lane,
That reached the foot of the peons quarters -
Dark brown walls and empty black rooms in the day,
Where, rumor has it,
The old witch from the skinny alley took refuge,
When little feet mustered bravado and invaded her den.
And then the canteen of 1991,
Where the UNESCO club held their fundraisers,
And sold delicious samosas for Rs.2,
From oil stained brown boxes.
The same place from where,
Two years later,
Mrs. Pathan would treat us to chocolate vanilla ice cream balls,
To deal with the depression of turning,
A year meaner and older.