And then, one evening as I walked by the box, I caught Molly
with her nose buried deep inside. She
was gorging on the packing peanuts. In
fact, it looked like she had been eating them for days as the supply had been
depleted by more than half. I secured
the box shut once again, sure that she wouldn’t be able to undo the lid this
time. Molly brought backup in the form
of George and with teamwork, they opened the box and began
scarfing peanuts with wild abandon. I
removed the box from the house and placed it in the garage.
When I told the Englishman about the incident over Sunday
supper with his oldest son and daughter-in-law, I learned that packing peanuts can
be made with biodegradable starch and are safe to eat. The Englishman demonstrated by retrieving a
peanut from the drool-covered box and popped one into his mouth, chewing vigorously. He declared it quite tasty and mentioned that
if we had a zombie apocalypse, he would head to the nearest warehouse to stock
up on the edible delights called packing peanuts. He patted his clever canines on the heads
and sat down to finish his dinner.
From an early age I loved to write. Many a summer day was spent writing, illustrating and carefully stapling my handmade books for my parents to read, but on rainy Northern days I could be found alongside my sister jumping in puddles that formed in the dips of our summer cottage lane.
11/19/13
Packing Peanuts
I placed my empty Stonewall Kitchen box on the floor,
careful to close it up so the leftover packing peanuts wouldn’t escape. I thought that I might be able to reuse the
peanuts and the box for Christmas gifts to England. Over the next few days, as I walked past the
box, I always crouched low to close it, puzzled as to why it stubbornly opened on
its own several hours later.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment