The husband just upgraded his speakers. Which I am insanely jealous of, though I proceeded to waste exactly no time in putting the empty speaker boxes on my appendages and roboting around the house. (Present for him, present for me.)
(I don’t know what he thought was going to happen when he handed the empty boxes to me — what was I going to do, put them straight in the recycling like a grown-up? PFFFFT! What did we, just meet?)
The speaker boxes reminded me of one of the greatest childhood memories ever, and that is the memory of the empty refrigerator box. Explaining it to the hubby only drew a blank look (okay, a blank look and a smile), but I can’t be the only one who did this.
The Greatest Toy Ever you could have as a kid was the giant empty cardboard box from a new fridge. When I was a kid, I guess a lot of people on our street had to replace their fridges. Because empty refrigerator boxes were pretty plentiful in my corner of suburbia. A neighbour would put an empty box at the end of the curb, and you would RUN to get it and put it in the backyard.
Because.
With an empty fridge box, what you do is this:
1. Put the box on its side, lengthwise, on the ground.
2. Crawl in the box to the very end.
3. Heave your body against the sky-facing side of the box.
4. The box will tip a little skyward.
5. Repeat.
6. Repeat.
7. Repeat until the box suddenly hits the “tipping point” (LITERALLY! ZOMG!) and rights itself on its end.
8. You are now sitting at the bottom of a tall box, looking up at the clouds.
9. Magic.
I would spend hours in those boxes. I’m pretty sure I fell asleep in one more than once. I have a vague memory of trying to negotiate bringing a blanket and pillow out to spend the night out there. Bottom of a box, tunnel to a square of sky. Peace.
Goddamn I wish I had a refrigerator box right now.