The other day when Z and I were walking up to town we saw a whole pile of these discarded on the side of the road. Picking one up, he asked me what they were. I told him they were for packaging fragile things. We filled my bag with them to throw away when we got to town, and kept walking.Z told me how he'd like to fill our whole house with them while we were inside it, so it'd be impossible to go from room to room. I told him that that wouldn't be such a good idea, which led to a discussion about the evils of polystyrene and plastic and how they pollute environments and don't break down.
"I can break them down," he said as he started to shred what was in his hand. As we talked some more about toxins and ecosystems and wild animals, he understood why we had filled my bag with the litter that, before we saw them, had already started to blow all over the place.
"Why don't the factories stop making them?" he asked.
"Why don't the police put the people who make them in jail?" he asked.
"Why doesn't God tell them to stop?" he asked.
