Sometimes, on Saturday afternoon, you just have to binge-watch Netflix while going through old boxes.
I haven't told Parker that there will soon be more boxes. And then more boxes. And then nothing but boxes. He'll find that out on his own in good time.
For now, I'll just let him believe that I'm rearranging things because that's what humans do sometimes.
But he's eyeing the boxes warily. I think he suspects that his life is about to get disrupted. To the extent that he can suspect anything, or comprehend the future tense, I mean.