All You Really Need Is A Good Box

I love toys.

You can find me playing paper dolls or Barbies with Sister, changing their clothes every 10 seconds, because the storyline changes just as often. I like playing with Brother's trains and building an intricate track, pretending we are on the island of Sodor. And who can resist Legos and Lincoln Logs, just begging to be transformed into houses and parking garages for Hot Wheels and Polly Pockets? When I go shopping alone, I can't help but visit the toy aisles, seeing what's new and wonderful in Toyland. When Christmas and the kids' birthdays roll around, I spend hours looking for the perfect toy...gleefully. You think it's tough for kids to wait to open presents? I have to hide them from myself.

My kids have their fair share. But it would seem that a chilly, rainy day, stuck at home erases their memory of such toys, no matter how beloved they were at Christmas. So today they end up going a little stir crazy, running through the house, jumping on furniture and driving their mom bonkers. Baby was especially ornery, completely ignoring the basketful of toddler friendly toys and opting for her favorites: cat food, the computer, trash, my jewelry box, the DVD's, etc. I decided to do a search online to find some kind of fun game we could all do together. Surely there must be someone out there in CyberSpace to help me tame my crew of wild monkeys! Crafts? Didn't seem smart given their...(ahem)...enthusiasm. Glue and scissors could get ugly. Then I find a site that suggests giving them boxes. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? So, out to the garage I scurry, somewhat trepidacious, given my recent spider attack. But the thought of spending the rest of the day trying to corral three wild varmints into something quiet and productive spurred me on.

My courage was rewarded. I found a long narrow box, perfect for a tunnel. And then a large, square-ish computer box that looked strangely like a cave. When I arrived with my treasures, I instantly became a hero, worthy to be called Supermom. The kids went nuts! They pretended they were in Narnia, hiding in the beavers' house from the bloodthirsty wolves outside. We found a stick and yarn, fashioning a bow for Sister. She donned her white Disney Princess cloak and christened herself Susan, ready to shoot her arrows at the enemy. Brother dug out his sword and found a kid-sized smock, which was transformed into shiny armour, bearing the crest of a brave knight. My stock pot lid became his trusty shield. Soon Peter was ready to take on the White Witch and all her evil minions. Baby just enjoyed the tunnel, rolling her ball back and forth inside it, giggling at finding her brother's face peeking out the other end.

They did this for hours. I had to coax them to stop long enough to eat dinner and peel them away for baths and bedtime. Sister even took her bow to bed.

Next Christmas I am totally rethinking the whole toy thing. Perhaps I'll give them all a box and spend the money on myself. A spa day? A dream date with my husband? A shopping spree?

Yeah, right.