Okay, maybe I'd better back up a bit...
A while back my daughter wasn't allowed to drive (that's another horror story for another time, but fret not as I will get to it.). Thankfully, her house was just a mile from her work so she could walk.
Her mother didn't like that idea.
I asked my daughter why not.
"Because no matter what I do," she said, "every scenario from my mom ends with me getting put in a box."
I mulled this over a bit. "What?"
"It's true," she said. "Mom told me I can't walk to work because some guy could come along and put me in a box! Dad, why does someone want to put me in a box? Why would they want to do that?"
Honestly, I couldn't come up with a decent answer. But, man, did we ever have fun with it.
While working on my daughter's house, we left a big box in the living room with a sign that read, "Get in!" On Boxing Day, I called my daughter and in the best slashery voice I could muster, I said, "It's Boxing Day! Mwah, hah, hah, hahhhh!" During Christmas, I told my daughter to look out because I didn't want to find her in a box beneath the Christmas Tree. The sick jokes continued. Still do, for that matter.
Of all the horrible scenarios I can think of, I don't believe I ever would've landed on The Box Ploy, but hey, whatever, different strokes for different folks. Could make a good book. Maybe.
Speaking of girls in boxes (talk about a clever segue, yeah?), read Dread and Breakfast to find out just how a girl in a box plays into the complex, labyrinthine web of dark secrets and murderous personalities! (Hey, I guess I did come up with that scenario some time ago, after all.)
Looks like she needs a bigger box.
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