me: "Is that a new retirement home? It looks so nice."
P: "Egh. It's just a bunch of little boxes."
me: "Well, the porch area looks nice . . ."
Ai: (singing the theme song from Weeds), "Little boxes on the hillside . . . "
M: "Look! In the middle of the road!"
A box. In the middle of the road. Huge and cardboard, lid flapping in the traffic-breeze, as the singing continued, "little boxes . . . all made of tickytacky . . . and they all look just the same."