I am in The Boy’s bedroom changing his sheets when he walks in with a shoebox.  Of course, this is no ordinary shoebox.  This particular shoe box has a door cut out of the lid.

Me: What are you making?
TB: Something.
Me: What sort of something?
TB: Just something.
Me: Well, it looks like it will be a mighty fine something whenever you finish making it.

The Boy sits on the floor and piddles with his creation.  I can see his wheels turning.

TB: Well, I could get my cars, and they could go up a ramp and in through the door and stay in the box when I’m not using them.
Me: That sounds like a great idea.
TB: But that’s not what I want to do, so I won’t.  But it’s still a good idea.
Me: Sure is.

The Boy ponders a bit more then gets up, grabs his wallet, and sits back down.

TB: Or I could put my small things in there.  Or my money.
Me: You could do that, too.
TB (as the voice of the box): May I have some money, please?
TB (as The Boy): Sure.  Here you go.  Have a dollar.  Matter of fact.  Have eleven.
TB (as the voice of the box): Thank you, sir.
TB (as The Boy): Why, you’re welcome.

The Boy shoves $11 through the door he cut into the box top, but then he looks flummoxed.  Ever one for keeping the children busy, I have a suggestion.

Me: Will you please put this pillowcase on your pillow?
TB: Sure.  But it might take me longer than it takes some people.  I have a different way that I do it than most people.  A different way than most people is how I do it.
Me: Is that right?
TB: Oh yeah.  I do it different.
Me: Well that’s cool.  It doesn’t matter so much how you do it as that you get it done.  Right?
TB: Right.
Me: Well thank you, Son.  Make sure to put the pillow neatly on your bed when you’re finished.  I’ll come back in a bit to check it out.
TB: Thank you, Mommy.
Me: You’re welcome.

Exit Mommy.  Stage left.