Boxed In

It all started with a lawnmower. A hazardous, toe-chopping, oil-draining, groaning, wheezing, miserable excuse for a lawnmower. Paul bought this lawnmower shortly after our marriage in 1999, and has had a hard time letting go.

When the starter cord snapped off mid-pull, Paul finally decided to say goodbye to his dear friend, and took Owen to the "lawnmower store" aka The Best Freaking Place on Earth EVER.

The "lawnmower store," (Sears to you and me) not only had lawnmowers, but it also had a whole collection of washers and dryers, in various colors. Washers and dryers that could be opened and shut, rubbed reverently and gazed upon adoringly. There was even a CLEAR washer where Owen could see moving parts and sudsy water and ohhh...the JOY! The RAPTURE!

Owen with a shiny washing machine is like a thirty-year-old-woman at a New Kids reunion concert.

But, the fun did not end with the purchasing of the new lawnmower. No, we were left with this:



One may safely assume that this is just a box, but let me assure you, it is so much more.


A House:




A Submarine:



A Dishwasher:



And...(surprise!) a Washer/Dryer (This is the walk-in variety. Big Teddy and Green Pillow were dirty.):



This box is slowly losing its shape due to repeated sawing at it with my trusty kitchen knife. I fear, dear box, that your days are numbered. But while it is still making him happy, Owen will keep his box.

It makes me happy that he uses his imagination---it makes me think of my brother, who was so like Owen in that regard when he was a kid.

It also makes me happy that Owen's world is still magical enough that all it takes is a large box to have anything his little heart desires.

Finally, it makes me happy to think that this may be the tipping point for Paul so that we can finally get a new bathroom sink..."Just think, honey. Just think of the boxes..."