A long long time ago, my mother bought me some ice tea. I liked the stuff. Now, what you must know is that this particular brand came in big, sturdy Tetrapak cartons, which were, to my to this day unchanged childish mind, too good to throw away. Surely, a one and a half meter high mountain of cartons in one's bedroom will be good for something, some day.
So I had no idea what to do with these things until my mother came home one day and told me a story of a man who had built a raft from milk cartons. I had collected 150 cartons by then, and with the help of a small fortune's worth of packaging tape, I built me a freaking raft.
A couple of months later: the raft was still in the shed, but in the summer a friend came by to take some photographs for her photography course. While dining, for some reason, we started talking about the raft, and she said I should take the fucker out. I said yes, she called my bluff, and at that point, it was already too late.