|I can overlook "aloud" -- tricky things, those homonyms -- but the superfluous apostrophe? Ouch.|
It started off rough. Then they added a mailbox. And if you're going to have a mailbox, you certainly need mail. John came to me with a sheaf of papers.
"Can I use these," he asked.
"What are you going to do with them," I wondered.
He leaned in slightly and in a conspiratorial tone said, "Secret stuff."
Secret stuff. Of course. And off he ran to do his secret stuff.
The next day he wanted to install carpet. Since I was planning a yard sale, I had an old rug to contribute. I had to laugh when John returned a few minutes later to borrow the vacuum.
Today the addition went in. I found John and his friend Jonah on the roof of the fort pounding planks into the roof of the addition. I wondered where they got the wood and then wondered if Dave would have to be resuscitated when he learned of this development.
Our seven-year-old can pound a straight nail. Dave's one proud Papa. He headed for the workroom to grab a power saw and a drill. Suddenly the project became a father-son endeavor.
The addition, it turns out, is a jail.
Ainsley came running to me with a grim report. "If I get a bad grade," she told me, "John said he'd nail me into the prison."
I don't think he intended to nail her actual person. I think the door to the jail doesn't yet have a hinge, so the only way to close it is to nail it shut. Daddy will take care of that, no doubt.