Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Luke in the box

Luke has more toys than any child I have ever met in my life. Not only does he have enough to fill his room and a good part of his mother's living room, but he also has a pretty full playroom at my parents house. Oh, and that doesn't count all of the outside toys and the giant pirate ship playhouse in their backyard. I readily admit that I have been the source of at least an eighth of these toys, and have opened a money market account for the purchases I plan to make for him in the future. However, no one can be topped when it comes to Grandma.

This weekend my mother decided something was missing in Luke's life. Driving. So, off we went to Toys R Us in search of a suitable vehicle. You know, something safe, fun and encrusted with diamonds. No, that would
be too much, at least before he turns 16. Luke finally picked out a bright green John Deere hauler. $339. My first car wasn't worth that much, but at least it went more than two miles an hour.

Because Luke would have had to wait 24 hours if we had the store put it together, we decided to take it home and let my Dad assemble it. I love my Dad, but he is not Handyman Negri. When he works on anything, be it the snow blower or a pair of glasses he does it with a cigar clamped between his lips, multiple obscenities being muttered under his breath, and a glare that just screams "go away." So, I thought it would be best to keep Luke out from under foot. Unfortunately Luke was not to be budged. Promises of candy, running
through the sprinklers and chasing the dog fell on deaf ears. He was going to "help Grandpa," even if it meant making Grandpa's head explode.

Finally, I did the only thing I could think of. I pick up Luke and dropped him the large box the truck had come in. He was trapped -- and suddenly very happy.

We started out playing the game "earthquake." It's very complicated. He sat inside the box -- and I shook it. However, soon that wasn't enough for Luke, he wanted real adventure. So, I started pushing the box over. The first time I did it he laughed so hard I thought for sure he had wet the box. Then the cry came from inside "again, again." I was actually very pleased with how well the box held up considering I pushed it around the lawn for about 15 minutes. Only one of the glued down bottom flaps came undone, and that gave us a golden opportunity to play restaurant -- using the opening and closing flap as a drive-up window.

Of course, because Luke and I had to trade off playing customer, I had to get inside the box. And let me tell you, cardboard holds heat surprisingly well. It was like a sauna in there, only no naked middle-aged women who are "proud of their bodies."

Of course, a box can only the attention of a four year old for so long when his new toy is being put together in the garage. I mean, I could have kept him there, but I think taping him in would have been considered cruel. Funny, but cruel.


Amanda said...

Gives new meaning to "back in the box".