Invasion of the Boxes

As my many readers will be aware from my post a few days ago, my parents recently returned to England for good after twenty something years. Alarmingly, they’ve started sending me e-mails about how they want to clear everything out of my room in their house – and throw it away, presumably – to make room for the shipment they’re expecting from Saudi Arabia. This shipment apparently comprises of ninety boxes.

Now, quite apart from the facts that:

1. Every offspring knows that your parents should never, ever clear out your old room; and
2. even if they did, there would still be no room because it’s so bloody small;

what exactly is in these ninety boxes?

My parents have already thrown out or given away most of my brothers’ and my old toys and other childhood stuff, excluding a few with high sentimental value, most of which my mother had already brought back to England on previous trips. I was also informed that they were not taking any furniture. So what exactly did they manage to find to put in all those boxes? Maybe all those festering old jars of food from the 80’s that they’ve always insisted they’ll use?

Actually, the main worry for me is that on their going-through-my room frenzy they’ll come across the two extremely racy books stashed in the back of my wardrobe. Though there’ll be some even nastier surprises for them if they decide to go through my brother’s stuff – I know this from my own snooping experience!

They are probably just punishing me for moving to Australia.