Nicholas loves containers.
He loves boxes, backpacks, pouches, suitcases and duffel bags.
In fact, if you happen to posses a container that has some Velcro, a zipper, a latch or a key hole, I expect if you show it to Nicholas you will probably never see it again.
He is fascinated with the secret power of something closed.
To him, it is a priceless treasure just waiting to be discovered; an endless opportunity to find something valuable, like Muffy's lost knotted leash or a collection of wrapperless crayons.
Nicholas will spend much of his free time zipping and unzipping his modest collection of bags. He enjoys listening to the sound of metal meshing with metal or the scratching sound of Velcro tearing apart and stubbornly revealing the inner most contents of a secret compartment.
For Nick, it's all about the simple things.
Eventually many of these containers end up discarded on our living room floor.
I have stubbed my toe on many bags I thought were empty. As I open the bag, box or backpack I am surprised to see that there is usually another bag hidden inside. I smile and open the next bag which usually holds another, and another and another until finally the last zippered bag will hold one of Nick's most treasured items.
I have found things like a Dora sandwich box, my tattered copy of Dr Spock's Child and Baby Care book and even the instruction booklet for our microwave oven.
Nick's "hide the object in backpack" game is usually a lot of fun that is until we are late for school and I notice that I can't find my keys. We have spent many mornings on the living room floor unzipping layers upon layers of backpack packaging, where more often than not, we do not find my car keys.
Or you will find yourself having a conversation that goes something like this:
"Niiiiiiiiiiiiick," Weston shouts annoyingly.
"Have you seen the charger for my ipod?"
"Oh, O" Nick says quietly.
He puts his head down and walks quickly into the living room to begin a new search.