I haven’t been blogging. I have no excuse. I have been a bit busy though. I have a new housemate (or two). We have been getting acquainted. Krista and her son Conor moved in in October. I’m happy that they are here. Conor is five. And I find myself identifying with having a five-year-old in my house.
As soon as they moved in, I had to start unpacking some of my boxes. There wasn’t enough room for me, my boxes, and two new housemates. One evening–just after Halloween, I unpacked my collection of children lit books into the built-in shelf in the living room. I guess I figured I have a reason to unpack them now that there is a five-year-old in the house.
I finished and went into the kitchen to get something ready when Conor appeared in the doorway–with the box over his head.
“Look at me! I’m a box!”
How fun. How to have fun with a box. There’s all kinds of new thingamajigs that cost all kinds of money. Why spend the money though? You can just use a box!
We cut out some eyes, nose, and mouth in the box. Then–he wanted space for his arms. We cut out arm holes. He was very excited to be a box. And me? I was excited that he wanted to be a box.
Later that week, Conor and his mom went to a birthday party at the local Healdsburg Bar and Grill. He wanted wanted to wear the box. Apparently, he stood up on the table, with his box over his head, armed with his light saber and shouted to the entire restaurant:
“Look at me! I’m a box!”
Last summer, when Cindy was here. I had just bought a fabulous set of kitchen knives. They came in a box. Part of the packaging was a three-dimensional, triangle-shaped box. Basically, it looked (or could look) like a pirate’s hat–made out of cardboard. I immediately put it on my head–for the simple effect of putting a triangle-shaped piece of cardboard on my head.
It fit. Perfectly. And, it was just funny that when Cindy arrived home–I greeted her with a box on my head. And she looked at me a bit sideways–but maybe she just thought I was a crazy lady from Canada. And that’s what people from Canada do–they greet their foreign friends with boxes on their heads. And we just laughed at the thought of it all.
Hmm. Well–maybe, just maybe, this was one of those situations where you had to be here. I don’t know if I can explain why it was so funny.
So, when Conner appeared in the kitchen doorway with a box on his head saying: “Look at me! I’m a box.” And I immediately identified with my five-year-old housemate who thought it was funny to put a box on his head.