Boy in a Box

The moments after dinner and before bath/stories/bed are customarily quiet in our house.  Oscar and Edgar, as if they sense there are but a few sacred minutes to get in one last round of play, are very, very quiet.  I believe that on some level they think that if I don’t hear them, I won’t see them.  And if I don’t see them, I will forget that they’re there, and their bath (and thus bedtime) will be postponed.

Genius, really.

Which is why I was a little surprised at the BOOM and CRASH that occurred while I was sweeping up the evening’s detritus after last night’s repast, followed by Oscar’s informing me in a show of pure brotherly love:  “Mom, Edgar just dumped both toy bins!”

From ten feet away, I thought to myself, “Why?”  Why at 6:30 PM would the toy bins need to be emptied?  Why do the toy bins need to be emptied at all?  What seemed to me arbitrary at best and senseless at worst was quickly explained by a walk into the toy room:

Edgar needed a platform and an enclosed seat–and how else to achieve this but to empty the two toy bins?  Nothing arbitrary or senseless about that.

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