Not a Box

The other week a mom friend called to tell me that she and her co-workers had received new desk chairs at her office. Whereas everyone else was excited about the chairs, she, as a fellow mom, was excited about the sturdy cardboard boxes that the chairs arrived in. She brought one over to me and, BEHOLD, I have transformed it into The Alphabet Elevator for my son, whose two favorite things in the universe are the alphabet and elevators.





Here's a shot of the interior button panel. I also cut a round hole in the lid to let in light, which looks like the dim, round lights in the elevator at our library.



Everything is better with a giant Z, A, E, or H painted on it:



The box is, much to my chagrin, just large enough that I can squeeze into it with Ben, and he knows it. Tonight I was required to cram myself in and out the door multiple times, scrunch up next to Ben inside, and sing a composed-on-the-spot elevator song about 500 times. Later Chris made up for my mild discomfort by telling me, "You're pretty much the coolest mom in the world because you make things for him all the time and you make up songs all the time. AND you never scream at him or blow smoke in his face." *Sniff, sniff*