The last minute collector of stray objects. Remember when you see that last lot of things and go, Oh Shit! Where do I put these?
The “Oh” Box is so useful
Battered and tattered though it may be.
When I feel I have finished
All my packing suddenly I see,
Half a dozen small things lying around
Some on the table, maybe on the wall
Or perhaps a rug on the ground.
Where will I pack them all?
I look through cartons already full
The line of trunks will be no help at all.
“Oh” I think to myself, “What bull!”
Where’s the phone? I need to make a call.
To ask my husband what to do
Get more cartons or buy a new box
to pack these remaining item, phew!
That’s when I see the “Oh” box.
Image via Wikipedia
The oldest one that we own
I actually inherited it from father
Each time I decide its to be thrown
It takes our luggage farther.
I end the call, my decision made
I pick up what I want to toss
through all the left over stuff I wade
across the room to the “Oh” box.
Nice poem 
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