Yesterday the kids decided to built a fort. I knew this would be so when Nick approached me in a bustling, fussy mood, one hand on his hip and the other raised in a didactic wave. “Mommy. We need sheets.”
Who am I to say no? I gave him sheets. He and Jesse built a fort that took over half the living room and used all our small furniture and chairs as vertical structural elements. They completed it while Anthony and I were out on a date night enjoying the totally mediocre movie, Lucy. They filled the space in the fort with books, supplies, and stuff; and apparently if there was anything that didn’t fit, they threw it on the floor in the other half of the living room.
All that stuff on the floor, that’s toy vomit. Anthony and I cleaned up the visible vomit, of course. We left the fort because, you know, fort.
For most of today I didn’t take any notice of the living room. I was busy with making breakfast, doing laundry, getting the ribs in the oven, going to the water park with the family and, while Anthony took the kids to a movie at the theater, shopping at REI and Whole Foods. Then I finished dinner — the ribs, fresh cole slaw, salad, and garlic bread. Not bad.
After cleaning up and all that, I wandered into the living room and saw…
Three cuties staring, unblinking, at three electronic devices. A common sight these days.
The fort, or perhaps more accurately, a shroud masquerading as a fort. Still there next to the catatonic cuties, but abandoned.
A dead orange dragon, cause of death not obvious. Is the green flannel sheet wadded up near its butt supposed to be dragon poop?
These little creatures, all alone next to the hearth. I don’t know what they are. Some sort of lizard?
This motley (but carefully placed) array of figurines. I’m not sure why the dragons and sea monsters were hanging out with the rescue heroes. Only Nick knows the answer.
Notably, the three larger human figurines on the sofa never moved while I shuffled about taking these photos, nor even looked up at me.
Toy vomit, all.