Vintage Shrewsday today in response to Side View’s Challenge: Cardboard. You can find her site here .
Very Important Happenings at the Shrewsday household today. As Maddie’s birthday approaches, so does the urgent need to create a beautiful new bedroom in accordance with her request.
Clearing a room is rarely straightforward. The clearing of the highest room in the house, perched on our third floor, with an attic window looking out on the luscious Summer forest, has been a complicated series of moves.
We needed a Toy Evaluation Board consisting of two indecisive executive-type children, myriad trips to the tip, hooverings and dustings and removings. Its all a blur.
Today, as I sat having coffee and putting the world to rights with a great friend, Maddie arrived in the kitchen with a Summons.
Daddy had removed the nursery attic cupboards: and now all the paraphernalia inside must be resited.
Oh, joy.
My friend and I adjourned, and I braced myself. I counted very slowly to twenty. And then I went upstairs.
It wasn’t as bad as all that, really. I just needed to clear a large hole somewhere in Felix’s room, in order to site all the boxes from Maddie’s eaves in this cleared space.
Being a member of the Magic Circle, this was not problem at all for me. I put on my magic hat, tapped Felix’s burgeoning room thrice, and intoned in bell-like tones: “Abracadabra!”
Or was that Mary Poppins?
The reality could have been a little more laborious than that: but being a mother I am well used to wiping unpleasances from my memory. The next thing I recall was a space in Felix’s room just perfectly suited to the bags, boxes and Bionicles which needed a home.
The great transference began. Willing little hands brought box after bag for stashing in the space that was looking less and less cavernous by the second.
And then, a very large cardboard box indeed said “Where do you want me?”
Looking downwards I glimpsed a pair of legs which I took to belong to my son.
Now: I need to mention at this point that this was an iMac box. Phil loves old Macs. He buys them for peanuts and stores them for when they are heirlooms. Will this ever happen? I don’t know. His mother doesn’t think so. She would rather they evacuated her beautifully ordered garage and headed for the great Mac graveyard in the sky.
I am in two minds: I have nostalgia for old Macs, they bewitch me. I did all my journalism training on these little munchkins, roundabout 20 years ago.
But they don’t half clog up the works. And there’s only one thing worse than a pile of redundant Macs, and that’s a pile of redundant Mac boxes.
Bear this in mind, then, as you picture me on the verge of a split second decision about this particular Mac box.
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, in the time-honoured manner of British Nannies throughout the ages.
My son’s face prepared for war. It crinkled up in that outraged pruniness only little boys can seem to muster. “But I play with it! All the time!” he negotiated explosively.
I offered a silent prayer to Ms Poppins. “Darling, it’s a cardboard box. Cardboard boxes are not permanent. You can have it downstairs in the sitting room for two days, and then it goes to the tip.”
What I expected at this point was more spirited arguing. What I did not expect was broken-hearted sobbing. “But I love that box! It’s my box!” he cried, the tears streaming down his cheeks.
I know when I’m looking at a tantrum, and I am fairly good at spotting real human tragedy. This was the latter . My hard-nosed Poppins exterior melted. I relented immediately and the box was permitted to stay.
Felix parked it in my bedroom. And it wasn’t until after lunch that I looked at it properly and realised what a very precious object it must be.
It is carefully labelled in kidscript: “Good for: pranks, hiding, jumping out at people”. It had been named “The Shelter”, and the oval which once helped the Mac’s brand new owner to carry it away from the Apple Store is now a Spy Hole.
It is emblazoned with faces which carry outrageous expressions. It is a work of art. Tracey Emin, look this way. My children are clearly geniuses.
Kate Shrewsday 
You’ve done a great job: your kids have imagination.
Spud once spent the better part of two weeks sitting in a box that once held our massive fridge freezer.
😀 A box has that je ne sais quois, doesn’t it, Tilly?
It does 🙂
Nanny McPhee and Mary Poppins are:
(a) Nodding at Kate’s sage ruling
(b) Smiling indulgently at Kate’s soft-hearted instinct
(c) Contacting Tracey Emin to send her around for a look
(d) Having a spot of tea
The answer: All of the above (except, perhaps, “c”)
I think your instincts are solid there, Nancy. Poppins and Emin fell out over a piece some time ago. They simply couldn’t agree on how a bed should be made : http://www.saatchi-gallery.co.uk/artists/artpages/tracey_emin_my_bed.htm
That is TRASH, not ART.
Or should I just say . . . RUBBISH! 😀
I can see that you and Poppins would see eye to eye, Nancy. A spoonful of sugar….
Aye! Ms Poppins and I see eye to eye . . . with Phil. 😀
https://kateshrewsday.com/2011/07/10/childlike/
Delight! Kids and boxes and all kinds of wonderful things!
Not as much delight as you managed to pack into one post, Anne. It was lovely 🙂
awwwww. i’m glad you permitted the box rescue!
Felix was very chuffed, Meli 🙂 Hope your Felix is well. Your photos are beautiful.
– Scout made a long thin carton of a cardboard box into a disguise last Summer… (14 years of age) – so don’t expect this phase to pass quickly 🙂
LOL I’ll prepare myself, Pseu 🙂
I have a friends who clear their children’s bedrooms out with great stealth for this exact reason 😀
Stealth sounds a good plan, BB!
Ah I understand too well, Kate. I am a hoarder I think because my husband was a ‘chucker-outer’. Whenever I needed anything it had been chucked out! 😀
Phil’s very like that, Denise: I keep finding what I would term essential household items in the bin….however, this being a repost I can report that the box stayed until it was literally falling apart!
Good for you, boxes hold universal appeal, you have many years ahead of you.
Must look a few more out, Cindy!
Tom saves iMac boxes as well. There are several. Empty. Is there a cure? tee hee
I wish fervently there were, Penny 🙂 If you find one please do let me know!
It takes a child to fully appreciate the value and potential of an empty cardboard box. That’s a law of nature, isn’t it?
😀 Couldn’t have put it better myself, Piedtype.
Must say, though, Mac boxes are pure sophistication and well put together. I’ve a hard time tossing even my iPhone box ~
I still have all of my iphone boxes….far to nice to bin….
WordPress hid your5 comments as SPAM! How insulting!
My apolgies for seeming to avoid you this weekend. I can only be glad that the magic box full of so many memories, past and to come is safe still
No apology necessary Sidey 🙂 Life throws in curveballs occasionally and we walk through it knowing they will skew things occasionally. Spam fritters for tea today.
(Not really, they were bad enough in the ’70s)
Love it, Kate 😀 Our cat is totally with Felix about the merits of cardboard boxes – and all the best with Maddie’s exciting redecorating!
Cats do love their boxes, don’t they? Even Kit Kat in her old age will requisition most boxes and Felix ends up having to share…