When my mother-in-law drove down from Chicago she brought some moving supplies to help us pack up this summer. Three GIANT boxes full of butcher paper... LOTS of butcher paper. Not wadded up either... all nicely folded. It’s for wrapping stuff up – y’know? But each giant box weighs as much as 3 or 4 reams of paper. They sat in the living room for about a week, and I finally dragged two of them down to the basement. But there wasn’t room for the third one down there, so I left the 3rd one for a few more days.
Yesterday, my 5 year-old daughter starts on about it.
”Where did the other two boxes go?”
I put them down in my studio.
”Why?”
Because they were in the way up here.
”Well, why is this one still here, then?”
Because it’s big, and heavy and I haven’t found a place for it yet. It’s really not your problem honey.
”Actually... I think it’s everybody’s problem.”
I just love children.
D.
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