Squish had a parent/teacher meeting today--or rather a "Student Led Conference" wherein she showed me all of her work in her classes and what she was most proud of.
She's very clever, and I, of course, am very proud.
But on the way home, Squish said, "Mom, why do you have to call me Squish still."
I said, "Mostly because I still call you that on social media. Because I want to protect you and your brother until you're old enough to be on your own social media."
She nodded. "That's fair. I can deal with Squish."
Her brother said, "And I can deal with being the Eternal Box."
My brain froze.
About three weeks ago, a teacher gave him a big cardboard box for reasons he keeps trying to explain but I am not getting. It was a prize of some sort. Go figure.
Anyway, ZoomBoy wrote, "The Eternal Box" on the front, and then walked around school wearing the box and saying--in a sepulchral tone that gave him gravity, I suppose--"I am the Eternal Box. Ask me your questions and I will answer."
And people asked him questions.
Now the part of me that still remembers being in high school thinks this is hysterical and awesome and sort of amazing. It's like he's crafted his own sci-fi character out of cardboard and cheek.
The part of me who had that damned box in my car for two weeks as he begged to wear it to soccer games and family gathering wishes we'd left the fireplace intact because I have a suggestion for how to make the damned box not so eternal.
And then ZoomBoy got an idea. (Right? We've seen this movie. It doesn't end well.) He wants the Eternal Box to be his senior prank. (Yes, this is in two years, why do you ask?) He's like, "I"ll put on my box and stand up and preach the word of the box and the entire senior class will put on THEIR boxes and say 'All hail the box!'"
And again, my inner high school student thinks this is GENIUS. I've told other high school students about it and they smirk and nod and say, "Damn, I wish I'd thought of that--that's GENIUS!"
Mate keeps asking him if he hit his head while he was wandering around blind in the box, and he's like, "No, no, I'm fine. I'm the ETERNAL box, right?"
So anyway, ZoomBoy wants to be The Eternal Box in social media and I'm like, "When you can type that yourself--right now ZoomBoy is long and complicated enough."
He's like, "That's fair. But did you tell everybody about The Eternal Box?"
I sigh. "Sure, hon. I'll do that tonight."
We didn't get a picture--but we can get one tomorrow. Because the damned Eternal Box is sure as shit not going anywhere.