Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Beaver Dams Afoot

It would seem that our house been infested by little creatures trying to block off parts of our house with every loose piece of flotsam and jetsam that they can find.

It started a few months ago actually.  Desk chairs moved into doorways and were buried with every pillow from the three levels of the house.  Bedspreads added more coverage.  Entire shelves of books provided excellent floor cover.  Sleuths of stuffed bears appeared to dwell among the structures.  Broken crayons, crumpled papers, granola bar wrappers, mounds of hair clips and armies of inanimate guys littered the premises.

Evidence of child's play was everywhere.  But no children were to be found.  The thrill of the game appeared to be in the sequestering of goods needed to build these massive complexes.  Once built they were abandoned.

Until bedtime.

The time when tired parents sighed with weariness because PJ's and even just entrance into bedrooms remained elusive on the other side of the burgeoning formations.  There was an even deeper sigh when they realized that everything needed for sleeping was embedded in the framework of the "beaver dam"--a word that has become common lingo for said structures.

Photo supplied by a skilled builder--from inside the bedroom.  A builder, that it should be noted, is small enough to crawl through the blockage.

A mere fraction of what lies within.

Thus would ensue a 30-minute demolition filled with protests from the children and strict orders from parents to cease and desist from building such elaborate ecosystems ever again, especially ones involving comforters (remaking beds at the end of the day leaves one feeling less than jubilant).

...well..., that is unless they are really using their imaginations, because that is what really matters.

And that is why today we find ourselves deconstructing only slightly less impressive structures.  Blankets from beds and pillows from other floors have been banned, but in the interest of allowing for the growth of creativity, beaver dams still appear on a daily basis.  We still might sigh at the end of the day, but deep down we know that all too soon these won't be a part of our house anymore.

And then we will miss them...

 A more recent pile-up comprised of a large stuffed horse (hoof in the middle left), a conglomeration of strollers, random bears, bathroom step-stools and hoards of books stashed under the crib.


BTW, note the hand on the slats.

It's attached to this napping sweetness. :)

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