Une Boîte Très Grande [A Very Big Box]

Several years ago, my husband Larry developed an interest in woodworking. He took classes, spent $$$$ on tools and machines and set up a state of the art woodworking center in our huge basement. I was thinking about purchasing a wooden box to store my patio cushions, but he offered to build a box for me.

He worked for months in the winter, often late at night. Our two cats meowed and howled when they heard the ruckus of machines down there. I checked on his progress periodically and witnessed the detail in his woodworking. The box seemed rather large. I mentioned that it was supposed to fit UNDER the three windows on our backyard deck. He built the box then covered the top with beautifully crafted strips of wood. Fancy box.

Weeks later, the box was finished. I asked if it would fit through the basement door. His eyes grew wide. He waited for good weather to move it outside, but he needed help. So when his St. Martinville buddies, Larry D, Murray, F, Roy P, and Nicky M visited with their wives in the spring, these four Cajuns, after a breakfast of OJ and vodka took measurements of the door, helped to dismantle the box and conversed about the best way to carry this monstrosity into the back yard.

Three of my favorite flowering trees alongside the house proved to be an obstacle to their progress. So they cut them down. They struggled but managed to move the behemoth to the back yard NEAR the patio/deck and plopped it down, at a slant.

I returned from shopping and looked at box, then at the butchered trees, then at Larry and his friends. They scattered, and Larry mentioned that they were late for golf. I said, "Later."

As spring rains fell, the box began to warp. I dropped a question into a conversation we were having about politics, "Did you happen to use waterproof wood for THE BOX?"  No answer.

As months went by, rats got into the box and chewed on my expensive chair cushions. Then a green tarp secured by stretchy, tacky ropes, appeared one day on top of the box.

His buddies inquire about the box occasionally when we see them. Murray says that thought he saw it floating down the Bayou Teche during the Christmas bayou parade.

Does anyone else sense a Boudreaux-Thibodeaux joke here?