The Box I Saved

I have a box I pulled out of the recycling, and it is exactly the size of the dishwasher. I want to be clear about that, because I don't have a system. I have a box.

I told my wife what it's for. One day I need to move the dishwasher into a box the size of a dishwasher, and I'll be glad I have this. And she said, you'll be glad, and she said it the way people say things when they're not arguing, and I heard that, and I filed it.

I keep it by the door. It's in the way, and I know it is. I have a routine for stepping over it, and the routine is the box, because if I trip on it, I know it's there.

My son moved it to the garage last month, and I found it and moved it back. The garage is where boxes go to be forgotten. The door is where boxes go to be needed. I've seen the garage.

I've been trying to figure out what I'm saving it for, and I don't know yet. That's fine. The dishwasher isn't going anywhere, and the box isn't either, and one of us is right about this, and it's going to be me.