Tuesday, February 18, 2014

The Cuss Box

The Cuss Box
When I was a kid, my grandfather collected piggy banks. Winding up the massive wooden staircase in his home, on shelves that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, was a wall of piggy banks. When he passed away, and the piggy banks were packed up, the Cuss Box was the one I kept. In fact, I think it is the only thing that I have that was actually his possession (not something that he made for me or for someone else he loved).

Swearing is bad and just aint funny, So if you cuss it will cost you money. 
When I was a kid, I was drawn to the box's risque nature, it's very rebelliousness. I thought it was funny. Now, it reminds me of my grandfather and his quirks.  This was a man who loved certain objects. Often, he crafted them with his own hands - hall trees, dollhouses, picture frames, clocks. When he couldn't create them, he collected them - piggy banks and golfing trophies, especially.

I also find it amusing that the Cuss Box looks like it got its fair share of use. My grandfather might have shared my admiration for the strategically placed curse word, but I never, not once, heard him swear.  I do know this, in our house, the Cuss Box consumes a nice, steady diet of quarters. And that's just from my three-year-old;). A/J
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