A Man's Job

There is a new obsession at our house, and it's just as powerful as pancakes, trucks and Big Bird -- Forts!

It started off pretty simple, we would just put Charlie's blanket over his head and tell him he was in a fort or "fork," as he prefers to call it, but over the past week our forts have grown, as has my understanding of the phenomenon.

You see, as a child I loved it when my mom mopped the kitchen floor, because Angie and I could line up the kitchen chairs and cover them with blankets to make a fort -- same basic structure each week, same blankets, same game; tons of fun.

If I were the family fort guru, I would most likely pull out the dining room chairs, or if I wanted something even simpler, scour Amazon.com for some sort of structure that I could just whip out and throw a blanket over on demand.  Tah-dah!  Kind of like manufactured housing.

Apparently, that is not how boys do forts. For boys (whether they be 23 months or 34 years), there is way more to it. The other night when Charlie begged for a fort, Jason actually mentioned that he'd been thinking about it throughout the day and had developed a few plans -- what!? Charlie was thrilled.

To date our forts have utilized the bar stools and couch (a bit risky, as Louie assumed the roof would hold him), the couch, the train and the book basket,  as well as  Jason's recliner, Charlie's recliner and the shutters (the favorite so far), but discussions have included counters, staple guns and various other contraptions.

Thankfully, Charlie was quick to realize that mom had little skill for this and saves the "fort, Fort, FORT!" mantra for Daddy.  From time to time I am invited in, but my primary job is to document the construction for posterity (and future analysis and planning, I am sure).

Old School

Boys Only

I tuck it, Daddy

Reading by the shop light