Early Christmas

My father-in-law brought over a great gift for M. Edium last weekend. It's a big, tall patio heater that runs on propane. It has wheels on one side so you can scoot it around, and a lovely little granite drink table that wraps around the pole.

What, that doesn't sound like the perfect present for a nearly-four-year-old? Well, that's becuase I haven't told you about the packaging yet.

It came disassembled, with a mutliplicity of parts and components, divided among several inner boxes. Considerable space was occupied by intricately molded slabs of polystyrene, the kind he loves to carve into little snowstorms. And of course there's the main box itself, which is a good two-and-a-half feet square.

As of this writing, the box is resting in our living room. M. Edium has feathered his little nest with a couch cushion, some pillows, and every afghan and throw he can get his hands on. He hasn't slept in it yet, but that's only because we haven't let him.

It's ideal, because his love for the box isn't simultaneously reminding us of the fact that there's an extremely expensive new toy that came in it that he's ignoring, as would usually be the case.

Well, there is, but he's supposed to ignore it. At least until I teach him how to hook up the propane tank.

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