It's a family heirloom. When I was growing up, it held the first-aid supplies (most of them).I'm the youngest of seven children and, man, we were a clumsy bunch! Broken arms, punctured kidneys, beans up noses. And endless, endless scraped-up knees and bloody noses. There would be a crash, followed by the pitter-patter of little feet and screams of, "Muuuuuuuuuum! Get the Boo Boo Box!"
I'm grown now and, thankfully, a little less in need of first aid (It's all a matter of knowing what to avoid. Like ironing. Or knives.).
Anyway, the Boo Boo Box is mine and it now houses my needles and threads and stuff.I like that it's so small. This should help to keep my collection of supplies from raging out of control. If it doesn't fit in the box, it's time to get rid of something.
But no, I'm not taking the lid off for you.
5 comments:
Nice memories and I am glad that you and Alan don't need it too often.
Janet
How sweet you got it! I know my sibling and I will be fighting over the family back scratcher when the time comes...so funny how it's the littlest thing that brings back the brightest memories!
Such a pretty little box! Fascinating, the many incarnations of things past, present and future!
I have a whole collection of antique tin cans, I cannot resist them.
By the way, I'm failing miserably at NaNaDaMo.
Corine - there's no way you can fail at NaNaDaMo (it's my event, so I can declare the rules to be anything I want).
And tinware does tend to follow me home.
I'm glad that my family heirlooms are the lumpy, dented things that they are and not, say, tiaras!
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