Discoveries In the Attic

Going to the attic to help Grandma find some yarn quickly turned into a distracting trip. Opening the boxes, I wondered why they weren't labelled and found a lot of interesting knick-knacks full of memories. Items like the little toy boat that was my elder brother's, which I used to hide as a kid, or the broken bear clock that used to be cute and adorable but had since stopped ticking with a broken paw. This was my younger sister's birthday gift, but she had carelessly broken it. The stuffed froggy also laid there limp, having lost a lot of its luster.

Realizing it would take a while to find the yarn, I did the next best thing and called my mom. Flipping open my phone, I called her, only to have her confused voice greet me and ask why I was calling when I was already at home. After telling her about the "yarn problem" and asking her to come up, I hung up. It only took a few seconds before I heard the thumping of footsteps as my mom rushed to my aid. With her by my side, we began sifting through the cardboard boxes.

Getting an idea, I grabbed a marker and started labeling the boxes we had just gone through, neatly putting everything back before doing so. Soon, we had about ten boxes neatly arranged and labeled, but we still had fifteen more boxes to go through. Sighing, we got to work, wondering what memory we would find next. The next box was smaller in size but heavier than the big box, which got me thinking about what could be inside. Shaking it, I heard no sound, and my inner child awakened, so I quickly opened the box to satisfy my curiosity.

To my surprise, row upon row of sparkling, vibrant marbles laid inside. Narrowing my eyes, I called my mother over and demanded an explanation. These were our collection of marbles that all of us siblings had contributed to, but one day my mom told me that a cat had played with them and taken them. I remembered all of us crying ourselves to sleep that night. So here I was, looking for an explanation.

My mom had a sheepish smile on her face as she told me how she had come across my younger brother choking on one of the marbles, which had scared her. As a result, she made a decision to give the marbles away, but then remembered how hard we all worked on the collection, so she put them away in storage. I couldn't be mad at her for that and quickly squeezed the life out of her. Flipping my phone, I sent a picture of the marbles to my elder brother.

Within seconds, my phone was buzzing. Picking it up, I told my brother the whole story. He then told me that he was coming home to pick up the collection and agreed that he could keep it since it no longer held the same meaning to me. Laughing all the while, I told my mom what he said, which got her laughing too. Putting the issue aside, we picked and opened the next box, which thankfully was the one we were looking for. The multicolored yarn balls greeted us, and holding the medium-sized box, we left the attic with half of the boxes labeled and the other half unlabeled, looking forward to the next adventure in the attic. Returning to the ground floor I handed the box to grandma wondering what she will make from them. What do you think?