The Age of the Crate
Here’s a crate:
Multiply that by around 35, and you have the total number of crates in our house.
One day Andre decided that instead of furniture, that’s what we needed. So he began finding them. I don’t know where they came from. All I know is that I’d be sitting at home and he’d come in the front door with four or so of them. Gradually they accumulated and we were overrun. So then the Optimus SubPrime Mortgage Robot was created.
I went to bed around 10 minutes after taking that photo. While I was asleep, Andre got bored so he moved the robot to right outside my door. When I got up at 7.30 am for work, I opened my door and it collapsed on me. I then had a cut on my face.
Another time, Daniel was sitting near our ‘coffee table’ (two crates and a slab of wood) when he saw a redback spider. He squealed and ran away, leaving me to take it outside and hose it down.
So from the crates I got a cut to the face and exposure to fatal spiders. Yet the crates remain, relentless in their attempts to kill me. One day they shall rise, declare Andre their lord, and take over the world.
