Box of Rocks

When my little brother was 15, he so desired a weight lifting set for Christmas.

I remember a trip to Sears, downtown and there was the display of weight lifting sets. My little brother hinted and whined and hoped.

A few days later, while my brother was out of the house, daddy dragged in this heavy box. We emptied the box of weights and a bar, and replaced it with rocks until it was about the same weight.

The contents were then hidden under my parents’ bed. Inside the box, there was a note saying ‘follow the string’. We wrapped the box with care and set it near the Christmas tree.

Later, when my brother came home, he was thrilled. He squeeled, “it’s the weight lifting set!” and we all replied, “Nope. It’s a box of rocks.”

For the next week, we bantered back and forth, as he was convinced he had his weight lifting set and we kept assuring him it was only a box of rocks. He would get frustrated and explaine that it was the right size and shape and was even the right weight. We weren’t fooling him-it was his weight lifting set.

We had so much fun with him, that year, continuing to stick with our story that it was nothing more than a box of rocks.

Christmas eve, while he wasn’t looking, daddy taped a long piece of string to the box then strung it down the hall and into the master bedroom, leading underneath the bed.

We squeeled and howled and just about busted a gut, when he tore into the package only to reveal……a box of rocks. He turned red in the face and I’d swear was ready to cry, when we brought the note to his attention.

He pounded his way down the hall while we all waited in the livingroom, listening intently. “Aaaaah! I knew it! I knew it!” He was so proud of that weight lifting set. I’d say the love affair lasted about a month. Sigh…