The sproglets went too far. I was cross but Daddy was crosser. [yes, it is probably another new word!]
The field shelter, c.1970, is a bit rickety but I thought it would make an excellent den for the 7yo and the 5yo. I duly bought and filled it with straw bales for the babies to rearrange. I felt content that I was facilitating creative play and empowering them. [See you don't really lose business-speak, the nonsense is still in there.]
My creative children felt that their den was their own; a naturalistic life-space, which they filled with carefully chosen artifacts. The open-front to the field shelter was a huge window on a rural world, a vantage point to watch goshawk, horses and the lambs. But it was missing something.........what could it be?.....oh yes, a side window!
On Saturday they decided to lever the planks off the sides of the antique structure, before then breaking them into itty-bitty shards. The Ice Queen would have been proud.
It took hubby and I a very long time to repair said den, although it was tres quiet, with the vandals incarcerated in their rooms.
Later that night, the 5yo delivered a hand-written treaty: 'The Field Shelter Treaty.' (We were gob-smacked by the writing and the excellent concept/spelling.) This treaty has now been ratified and although there are several sanctions imposed on the perpetrators, we expect normal cordial relations to resume this Friday!
I adore the note, what darling children.
ReplyDeleteBut it was such a good idea at the time. I vividly remember playing noughts and crosses (with myself, saddo) on a freshly painted bedroom wall. Don't think I managed to pen such a beautiful 'sorry' note, though. Had to stay upstairs for a week.
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