Okay, I admit it. I don’t like forts. I don’t like building them, and I don’t like it when they get built. I like to think I’m a cool mom, but forts are my downfall.
I let them build them. Because that’s what one does when you have six kids here on a rainy Thursday afternoon. Even worse, I made them MOVE the fort after I realized that they had transformed my living room into a blanket covered disaster. They then transitioned the entire thing over to the dining room, and spent the better part of an hour setting up this giant THING. Using blankets and brooms, hair clips and then trying to tape it up. I stopped Jessie before she broke out the duct tape.
And the entire time they were doing it, all I could think was about what a pain in neck it was, because, as it inevitably does, it deteriorated into a small battle because one girl wanted to play one way, and someone else wanted to play it a different way, and then Julie started to panic and cry because she thought she was trapped forever inside it and couldn’t figure out how to get out.
But it also made me think about childhood and working together and long afternoons with no homework and your siblings and best friends around. So even though I hate it, and I’m still cleaning up the mess, long after the kids have all either gone home or lost interest and gone home – I’m still glad that they’re young enough to it.