Unpacking

We got a rather large present for Trombone on the weekend. We bought him a kitchen. It’s wood and it doesn’t talk (there are an alarming number of talking, plastic kitchens for sale) it was in our neighbourhood, thank you craigslist, and I was so excited about finding it and buying it that I didn’t really give a passing thought to the fact that it’s still 3 weeks before Christmas and this thing is big. It is bigger than kitchens I have paid money to rent apartments around.

(It’s great though, it has a sink and a microwave and a dishwasher and an oven and shelves for all the pretend food. AND Fresco fits in the dishwasher.)

What?

On Sunday night SA and I were enjoying being down a kid while Trombone spent the night at his grandparents’ house. It was a perfect time to acquire the giant kitchen and acquire it we did. But then we had to move it upstairs and “hide” it. I was in favour of putting it in Trombone’s room and having him get his present 3 weeks early because his room is on the second floor and the only hiding place was on the third floor and that is a lot of shoving big wooden things around when I should be drinking. SA, traditionalist, insisted on finding a hiding place. So I went up and looked again at our bedroom closet, which, because it is gigantic, was full of boxes. I moved all the boxes out of the closet and was frankly stunned to be reminded how much space there is in that closet. I vowed then and there that those boxes would NOT go back in the closet, that they would be emptied and their contents distributed around the house or thrown away, as applicable.

Meanwhile, SA was downstairs powdering his hands in preparation for the great kitchen heave so I hied myself back down to make myself useful.

By the time we got to the 2nd floor, a hairpin corner and another flight of stairs looming, SA had almost changed his tune about making it a surprise. We decided to try hiding it in Trombone’s own closet in his bedroom because it, too, only contained boxes (in this case, boxes of cassette tapes) that could easily be moved out and up into our now empty closet.

My plans, foiled! The closet is once again full!

However, with some de and re-hingeing of the closet doors, we did manage to jam the kitchen into his bedroom closet and then jam the doors shut after it. Assuming he doesn’t try to open the closet, we should be golden. Actually even if he does try to open the closet, he will be shit out of luck.

It was through this great movement of boxes and boxes and boxes and emptying of closets, though, that I came across our box of Christmas stuff and did proceed yesterday to use it as a fun, rainy day activity. We have now decorated our living room walls and surfaces with various child-safe items because this year, with the crawling baby and the limit-testing toddler, is not a Christmas Tree Year. I’m glad, actually that we decorated because I love Christmas lights and I love decorations and Trombone does too. We had a lot of fun.

And it was through the sorting of the Christmas box that I found the cardboard packaging from a pair of reindeer antlers that I bought many years ago to wear to work, back when I was The Receptionist With The Christmas Spirit. The antlers have been up in Trombone’s room, getting much play all year round. But I had forgotten about the cardboard packaging. No I don’t always keep my packaging for five years. But look, here’s why:

Wherever you run - The Hunter Will Hear Your Bell!

It is just too bizarre to throw away. From the totally average antler model (I have never seen a model look so much like an actual office receptionist) to the ominous slogan (so – if I buy these, the hunter will catch me? I think I’ll save my money!) they are the decoration that keeps on amusing, year after year. Also they cost $2.95. Kid gets the toy, I get the packaging, everybody’s happy.