The animated or automated challenge is now closed.

This week's challenge is opening the box .

You've always taken as much care with the wrapping as with the contents: a pastry brush and wooden spoon crossed in the bow of an apron wrapped around the box containing a pretty ceramic pie plate. A pretty pebble twisted in tissue-foil, tied with tinsel, a tiny bottle full of sand with an hourglass drawn and "extra time" hand-lettered on the label, and a list of "things to do with your extra time" on parchment, rolled and tied, all tucked into a small white bag watercolored with sunset, or forest, or ocean.

Your mom always handed you a wrinkled brown paper bag, the top rolled over and crimped shut. Happy Birthday, she'd say. Merry Christmas.

Ouch and a half, Bev.

That's lovely, but painful. Nice work.

The call came once a month with a gentle reminder to please come pick up the box. It was claimed and then sat on the closet shelf. Out of sight. I don’t remember when it was moved to the shed. It may have been moved for safe keeping, out of reach from toddler’s hands. Ten years had gone by before I knew what had to be done. The box descended slowly beneath the water lilies. I had thought ashes were supposed to fly away on the wind. I know he understands why I never was able to open the box.

Oh Laura. Um. That last visual is striking, of the box sinking amid the lily stems. And the last line is quietly powerful.

We're a lively bunch of Pandoras, aren't we?

(In my mom's defense, she always baked me a cake--from scratch. Presentation of any sort was not part of her purview.)

Thanks Beverly. I'm a shy one that usually looks at the challenge then puts something in my journal for my eyes only. I'm trying to climb out of my box a bit here in my safe place.

Mom almost always used the Sunday comics for wrapping paper. You brought back that fond memory. Now I think her husband does the wrapping because it has improved, slightly.

Laura, I love the image of the box and the lilies. Thanks for getting over the shy!

Wow, those were both great.

Bev, yours was really hard to read, in a really good way.

And yay Laura, for joining us! That drabble was just perfect.

A happy "open the box" drabble.

~~~

She doesn’t understand the object of the game at first. The box itself is enough for her, the crackle of shiny paper under her hands as she bats at it, curls her fingers in the bow.

“Bah,” she says when we prompt her, proud of herself, beaming, smile shiny with drool. She’s teething again.

We push the box toward her again, watch as she rolls it, smacks it, clearly delighted with its easy slide across the carpet. Her brothers laugh, and she frowns at them, displeased.

“Bah,” she says again.

So we show her, ripping the paper gently. “Open it.”