My favorite movie. Action. Adventure. Comedy. Cool graphics and a great ending. But it had the most boring titles. The kind that just lists names with stupid swirly graphics behind it. So, to not die of boredom, I looked around our place.

Mom and Dad liked grays and blues. Blue sofa. Gray walls. Blue recliner chair. Gray coffee table and carpet and patio furniture and shelves. They did let me add a bit of color with a red pillow and a yellow blanket. On the shelf, above the TV, beside the pictures of Mom and Dad and me, Grandpa and Grandma on Mom’s side, and Grandma on Dad’s side, sat a box. A brown box about the size of a cereal box, with a crayon-made happy face on it. Someone, not me, drew red thumb-sized circles for eyes and a blue hand-sized line for a mouth. The mouth didn’t really look happy, but it did have a flipped-up corner, like the expression Mom makes when she’s winning at Snakes and Ladders, or Dad when he talks about work.

I wondered what Mom and Dad kept in the box, so high up that I couldn’t reach it, and too dangerous to use a chair because of the TV. Besides, they would know I looked, because of the dust. Lots and lots of dust. The house cleaner never dusts up there. She barely cleans. I think that we only keep her because Mom likes her. Mom works from home, and they will often spend hours talking while they drink coffee. Sometimes, they go to the guest bedroom to talk. Like today. The reason Mom put on the movie, so she and the cleaner could talk. To keep me busy inside because she doesn’t like me outside the house alone.

They had fun in the room, lots of giggles. I have asked to join them, but Mom says only grown-ups can play their game. Dad sometimes gets mad because the house doesn’t get cleaned very well.