Life is Complicated… Kids are Not.
My boys are 7 and 11. Just for fun, while we were wandering the aisles of Home Depot one evening last week, I let each of them get a cardboard moving box.
I walked from the back of the store to the cash with the two of them flanking me, “protecting” me with their newfound shields. They were over the top excited to be getting cardboard boxes, and proudly helped me load them into the car.
At home, they created forts while I made dinner, and then reconfigured the boxes to use them as ramps for various cars. Later on, they each stepped inside of one and walked around bumping into each other, pretending they were robots.
So. Many. Giggles.
After school the following day, the craft supplies came out and the two boxes were adorned with one-of-a-kind artworks in marker and coloured pencil. Precision scissor cuts created cutouts, and we discovered that pipe cleaners could be used to poke holes and add some decorative flair.
When bedtime rolled around, my oldest had grown tired of his box, and let his little brother have both. The two boxes were quickly attached together to create one long tube, closed on one end. Away it went, up the stairs to his bedroom. I knew what was coming next.
“Mom, can I pleeeeaaase sleep in my fort?”
Not seeing any harm in it, I conceded. He excitedly and immediately lined the fort with two fuzzy blankets, pillows and his favourite stuffies and turned it into the perfect cozy nest. And so began night one of what has now been a week of campouts (err… camp ins?) inside of a box.
A bed made of cardboard, on the floor. Right beside his actual bed, now sitting empy despite its many stuffies, soft covers and new, very comfortable mattress. Silly me for thinking that was the way to go!
I laugh every time I walk by his room and catch a glimpse of the fort-bed. And every time I poke my head in at night to check on him. And every morning when he wakes up, crawls back into it head first, and reads his Dennis the Menace books with a flashlight, footed Christmas jammy feet sticking out the end.
This morning on the way to school, I asked both boys to give me some Christmas list ideas. My oldest of course rattled off video games and sports equipment.