How can parents recognize box addiction?
It happens innocently enough. Lets examine the case of a girl. To prevent her from being identified, instead of her real name (Elizabeth or Lizzie), we’ll call her by a code name.
Anyway, Lizzy, as we choose to call our anonymous subject, is a precious little 1-year-old, who, like any self-respecting post toddler young lady, lives in her personal Queendom with two tall subjects, aka parents, who basically do her bidding day and night.
Queen Lizzy, it seems, has many toys, some stored in boxes. She loves to take the toys out of the boxes and scatter them about the living room. Not, it seems, to play with the toys. In reality, scattered toys mean empty boxes.
And Lizzie is a modern-day poster child for the tragedy of boxaholism.
On one recent Saturday in November, Lizzy’s grandparents were viewing her via Skype, and Lizzy was displaying full-blow box dependency. With glad squeals and great energy, she emptied a box. Then sat in it.
One of the games she played was “out of the box, and into the box.” She would appeal for help from one of the tall minions who do her bidding in her Queendom so she could escape her box. Then, she would immediately climb back in, head first, little Lizzy butt in the air, until she had boxed herself again.
At one point, Lizzy’s female serf displayed Queen Lizzy’s favorite chamber. A box, with a window cut into it.
As Lizzy’s male serf said, “all you need to capture babies is boxes.”
Let the record show, for the sake of truth and all that is good, this particular male serf played a key role in Queen Lizzy’s tragic box dependency. When Lizzy had finally achieved thronedom by sitting in her box, this serf, whom we shall refer to as either “Matt,” as most call him, or “dada,” as the queen herself addresses him, grabbed the box and swung it around like a Sit-and-Spin.
The queen squealed. It was apparent, however that the noise was not a protest, but appeared to be instead an enjoinment along the lines of “turn it faster, dada.” Dada turned the box. Queen Lizzy squealed. Before the Queen lost her royal supper (it was evening in the Queendom), dada or Matt stopped the box. Whereupon the Queen would loll her head about in a quite drunken fashion, another dizzy victim of the box and box turning habit.
The female serf expressed concern that IQ points could be leaking out the queen’s ears.
Perhaps we should excuse Matt a bit, as he was gently sipping an intoxicating brew himself during the brewhaha : a glass of wine. Of course, from a box.
I sadly must report, dear reader, that this box addiction may be genetic. Queen Lizzy has a cousin who rules her own Queendom on another continent.
And, as you can see from Nikayla in the toy box, that cousin queen has a box habit of her own, too.