Blog post for Going Home Stories blog I WANT YOU TO KNOW. www.goinghomestories.com/blog

I’ve been wanting to begin a series of reflections and dialogue regarding Raising an Aware Child.  Like most parents I’ve noticed a distinct difference in what my children are exposed to versus what I was exposed to growing up.  In this new age of constant media bombardment, a saturation of branding and advertising to our children, big box toy stores of goods made in China, and digital doodads to keep one tuned out for his/her entire adolescence, I thought it fitting to start this series.

In an effort to kick things off, allow me to wax poetic on one of the most simple, accessible and affordable of playthings… the cardboard box.

Ode to a Cardboard Box

You arrive at my door full of padding and fluff

Or were used in a move to carry odd stuff.

Maybe you came during a birthday this year.

No matter.  The point is, I’m glad that you’re here.

You start so bland… boxy and brown

Taking up space until I break you down,

But the inevitable opportunity arises one day

When the little ones have a request during play:

“Make us a castle, with a tall princess tower”

Or “a hideout for me with my superhero power”

“A big one!  With lots of windows and rooms”

So to the garage I go where the dusty stack looms.

With box cutter and a healthy amount of tape

You come back to life with a new improved shape.

With newly cut edges and reinforced seams

You’ll take on the form of my rascals’ grand dreams.

This time you might be a race car or wagon

Or fortress with drawbridge to keep out a dragon,

Perhaps a puppet theater complete with backdrop

Or the station of a choo-choo train’s very last stop.

Cut out the top and two side cuts to the floor

We now have a convertible with two working doors,

A center hole in the bottom and one more in the top

We’ve now made a sailboat by inserting a mop,

Or maybe an evil villain’s flawed holding cell

From which we know he’ll escape all too well.

You’ll be colored and painted and folded and bent

And then taken outside to be used as a tent

Sometimes you’re a quiet place for the kids to sit

To quietly contemplate their thoughts for a bit.

But whatever the shape, you still teeter and totter

Even as an outhouse for my potty-training daughter

Oh Box, over your life you’ll wear many new hats,

One day you’ll play this role, then another day that.

We’ll keep you around til they grow tired of you

Then in the recycling you go to become something new.

But through photos your legacy still lingers on

Even after your scrappy, paper body is gone.

So “poo poo” to Chinese plastic in the toy shops,

Just give us some time with that magic cardboard box.

©2012 Kirk Weston Jackson – www.GoingHomeStories.com

Blog post for Going Home Stories blog I WANT YOU TO KNOW. www.goinghomestories.com/blog