A package lies at my door when I open it.
The package I’ve been waiting for!
I dance inside with it and set it on my sofa, surrounded by grandsons and …
Who sits on the back of the sofa.
I carefully slit the tape and open the box.
“What is it Grandma?” my grandsons ask.
Before I can lift paper or anything out, Sparky leaps into the box and curls up.
“My toy. My box.”
I lift him out and reach into the box, barely able to grab out the intended prize before Sparky reclaimed the box.
This shouldn’t be a surprise. I gave him a box when he first came to our home. Cats like boxes. I have found him in boxes, under the area rug, beneath beds, inside blankets, even inside the bathroom sink. He loves to snuggle my feet and keep them warm down at the bottom of the bed, under the covers. (No judging allowed! My son let him do it when he was tiny.)
It is no wonder that when my computer arrived he claimed the box it came in.
Another toy for Sparky.