One Hundred Pounds of Foam

The other day I heard giggling coming from the front room. Perhaps it was not a true giggle but more of a low chuckle. Laughter is not out of place in our household, but the complete silence in between these bouts of chuckles was a little unsettling. As my ears perked I noticed a pattern to this chuckle and silence pairing. The timing between the chuckling was fairly constant and the chuckle was the same low chuckle that lasted a few seconds and ceased.

My interest peaked, I had to investigate. As I turned the corner into the front room I found several large boxes and the front door wide open. Ced was lifting yet another large box to bring inside and line up against the others. He then proceeded to chuckle as he appraised the cardboard wall he was building and turned on his heel to bring in another box. Peering out the front door I noticed the walkway was blocked by several more large, rectangular boxes.

"Hey, Ced?"

Another box was placed, extending the wall further in the room as Ced let out another low chuckle.

"Um. . . Ced? What's going on?"

Turning to gather another box, he shouted over his shoulder, "It's the cores!"

And then it clicked. The cores for the Cozy wings had arrived.