Parents have been saying for years that all kids prefer to play with the boxes rather than their own toys. I encountered this phenomenon recently as a parent myself. It all began when I decided to sit down and read a good book on the sofa. As I emerged from the grips of a thrilling story I found that the council tip had moved into my front room! My wife had emptied all of the recycling and told them to make something. I think my son had some bearing on this pile of rubbish that had arrived at my house. My son grabbed a full size broom, ramped up to warp speed and belted anything that was within his swinging range. This included his sister and furniture (his sister was looking fairly distressed now as well as the furniture!) Recycling, I am told, is all the rage. Good job as our house is full of it now. Our house used to look, well neat and tidy, now it looks like a fight scene which was cleared up by the local chimpanzees.
Am I painting a lovely picture of our house? No? Imagine a full height recycling bin emptied into your front room and kitchen and you can now imagine what I am looking at. My little girl brought in a line of boxes which had been beautifully crafted into a robot. Trouble was the floor was covered in packing and now ‘Robotic Ronnie’ wanted the rest of the sofa beside me! No offence but all I wanted to do was sit on the sofa and read my book, not sit with ‘Robotic Ronnie’ who had not contributed to the mortgage, and was a fire risk, but don’t let that worry anyone! My wife was on entertainment duty again and said “Don’t worry we can easily clean up.” I’m sure we can my little bundle of joy, but it would take a litre of petrol and a match before we were looking good to go.
No my friends, I am convinced yet again we are burglar proof. We’re off out to see our friends and my wife has just said “Leave the recycling and we will clear up when we get back.” As I frog marched the kids into the car I have just peered through our front windows to see a house that looks like it’s been turned over and vagrants had moved in! I was wondering if a few beer cans would have been too much, but I feared we would come back to shopping trolleys, open fires in metal bins, with a raft of people under the pile of recycling creating a new postcode area in my front room.
When we get home tonight I will look ‘special’ taking the recycling wheeling bin into the house, but if my neighbours know me well enough they will not think anything of it. I’m just happy in the knowledge we will be doing our bit for the environment, oh, and minimising a fire risk. If you see me tonight with petrol and a match you know the recycling was worse than I thought, or ‘Robotic Ronnie’ is putting up a fight!