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Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Kids and Boxes: A Love Story

Taking “Reduce, Re-use, Recycle” to a whole new level, my kids are crazy for boxes. Small ones often get wrapped up as mock presents, paper folded in every direction and held together with excessive tape, delivered by my silly little ones, brimming with anticipation for my (over)reaction when I open it up and discover an old toy or sometimes a lovely balled up piece of paper.

"Momma, we have a puh-rise for you."
"Just what I've always wanted! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

Medium-sized boxes are perfect for endless games of “Delivery Guy” complete with many doorbell rings. There is a point at which I think I absolutely cannot take another DING DONG but when I open the door and see their faces looking just as excited as the first time and hear their goofy “special delivery” voices, I give in and we do it again.

Big boxes are in a whole other league. Much to my husband’s chagrin (hi Honey, hee hee), I have taken to casing out the neighborhood for Sears delivery trucks and pestering neighbors for their appliance boxes. Refrigerators are the best for obvious reasons, they are huge! The last fridge box we scored stuck around here nearly 6 months (again, much to my husband’s chagrin … sorry, Dear) but it wasn’t just collecting dust. It was decorated again and again, danced on, hammered on and cut up, arranged lengthwise for tunnels, upright for walls, and sideways for sliding… and that is not all… oh no, that is not all we can do with this box (sorry, too much “Cat in the Hat” ). Anyhow, this big brilliant box transformed into a super-sized puppet theater for Sara’s birthday and a “blast the bad guy” beanbag toss game at William’s superhero birthday. Twenty-some preschoolers at that party got the better of this box finally so it was unceremoniously laid to rest in our recycle bin. Poor box, looking back on it, I bet it could have had at least another 3 happy months with us. Sigh…

Fear not, washers and dryers don’t live forever and last week I intercepted some boxes while visiting a neighbor when her new ones were delivered (I haven’t been stalking her or anything, really). The kids were delighted (husband, not so much but he is an extremely good sport). Standing in these more squatty boxes then tipping them over was the favorite sport at first but today the kids drew windows and doors on so I could cut out their requested architectural details. Earlier, their game of Delivery-Guy had morphed into “Bad Guy Who Wants Your Money” (oops, guess I’m not always kind about the solicitors who come to the door) and they got a huge kick out of Momma calling the cops and pretending to arrest them. Therefore, said boxes were transformed into jails, later into houses, and who knows what tomorrow will bring.


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