On the Box

“It gets you nowhere if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation.”
-Winnie the Pooh

Mater loves shopping, and she does it well. While I differ from her in that respect, I enjoy her happiness when she comes to visit, when she can browse new and exciting stores that she does not have in Ireland. It is always a treat to watch somebody so enthusiastic about anything.
She likes the clothes that she can buy here. She purchased a particular item of clothing last year during her trip that she considers better quality than what she could find at home.
The item's box bore the specific name and size of the garment; I advised her not to discard it- when she wanted another, I could take the information from her and simply buy another.
The inevitable happened last month and during a conversation Mater gently probed that she was ready for a new item.
"No problem," said I. "Tell me all the details and I'll go to the store."
Off went Mater to uproot the safely stored box. When she returned to the telephone I was surprised to find I could hardly make out a word she was saying. She was laughing so hard that she was struggling to catch her breath.
It turned out that she had been listening to me rather too well lately and that my attempts at frugality and space-saving were a stronger influence than even I had suspected.
Mater was thinking of me, and she presumed she was being efficient and careful when she chose not to keep the box and instead, artfully cut away the superfluous cardboard so that the needed information could be kept between the pages of a book.
"I'll be like my daughter," was the gleeful thought that flashed through her mind, so much have I spoken about keeping a clutter-free house.
She went too far, however, and in the end all that Mater was left with was an utterly useless picture of a beaming model- no name, no size, no product information.
No help.
Months had passed, and until I pressed her for detail Mater had not realised the error.
I do so appreciate when others take heed of my suggestions about economy of space. Being listened to is a delightful compliment even when it turns out the listener is drifting quite in the wrong direction.