The Story of Small things!!

Why did I name it The story of small things? I feel every little thing in our life/home has a story attached to it. Right from buying an eraser, a pair of shoes, an iPad to a car, what pattern curtains you have in your living room, why you have the lavender-scented bathroom spray to what you pack in your kids’ school lunch. You name it, and a story speaks.

            Why did I start writing this in the first stance? Because we moved. We moved 8 times, lived in 9 homes in 10 years. Yes, you heard me right; and I am exhausted. Hopefully, the last as it is our own home. So, with each move, you tend to clean the clutter despite spring cleanings throughout the year. That's when you find one of the topaz earrings you snatched from your sister last Christmas. That's when you find a bunch of candy wrappers in your son's closet realizing why the 5 pound Halloween candy bag now feels like a feather. That's when your daughter finds her scented Santa eraser between the sofa seats for which she had been searching an entire year. That's when the husband finds his photograph with the Megastar under the debris of documents he had been carefully safeguarding from the inception of this earth. The list could go on and on...

While we find these amazing secret treasures hidden in cleavages unlimited; there are certain things I found that traveled with me across oceans, countries, and continents. The most ancient thing that tops my head is my Vibhooti box. I had it from 2000/2001. I used to live in a hostel during my P.G days. We had a common room to attend to incoming phone calls. One of those days when I was talking on the phone, I noticed a small box on the desk that had pins in it. I thought it would be so apt to put my vibhooti. Before I am done with my call, the pins were on the desk and the tiny box in my hands. From then, it had been traveling with me to whichever city or house I moved and lived in. 

When you have a boy, your house will be filled with balls of all sizes, shapes, colors, and textures. One thing that makes me super mad is the husband and son playing catch in the middle of the house. Each time the ball hits a plant or a vase I threaten to trash them all. Every single time, I hold the soft orange squishy thing, a warm feeling envelopes me. It was a ball the son caught from the cheerleaders on his first Sacramento Kings' game at the stadium. How can I let it go? 

The husband declares to trash all the junk toys promising to buy them a new set in the new home. Though they may look old, how can I let him throw away the firefighter bear? Bears can be firefighters, how? Our neighbors had a fire accident in Folsom. My 4-year-old stood on the pavement silently. Not terrified. He was very excited to see a fire engine live. He gave a high-five to the FF. The FF took him inside the fire engine and gave him a tiny brown bear. My son thought he almost lost it in his multiple India trips only to find it out in a suitcase after so many years. See, how cute he looks. :) 

This box may not be the cutest one out there to store your novelties but I fondly owned it. My father had a fertilizer business and the pesticide company would give them complimentary gifts of all sorts. These boxes were one of them. While my mom stored tamarind and red chilies; I thought I can put them to use in a nicer way.  Though there are more fancy boxes available now, I still use them to store my daughter's clips. 

I am sure y'all must be having some cute little stories of cute little things in your lives. Thank you, BM for making me complete this post :)