Part III 1/2
Yes, of course I went in my son’s fort.
What kind of a blogger would I be if I didn’t?
A safe and warm one, that’s what kind.
Here’s the view as I army crawled inside, feeling pretty darn nervous about that plywood. I was certain that it’d collapse on me, in which case my blog would get a new name.
“Flat Margaret.”
Coming soon to a computer near you.
Okay, I’ll admit it. The inside of the fort felt warm & cozy. The only thing missing was my insulated mug and a copy of the latest issue of Boy’s Life. “Survive! Get out alive!” its cover text promises.
Perhaps I’ll stick with People instead.
As I scooted about on my—What’s the polite word? Bum?—I noticed a familiar object.
A grill spatula. Mine! Stolen from the shelf in the garage.
You know, it’s not that they borrow my stuff that I mind. It’s that they borrow without asking first and then they leave it where they used it.
Ask my husband and he’ll agree: Abandoned tools are grounds for adoption.
My red kitchen rugs disappeared a few weeks ago. One day they were there in front of the sink & refrigerator and the next day…they just weren’t. “Where’d my rugs go?” I demanded. No one seemed to know or care, and I added yet another item to the growing list of my dementia.
And then, one day, I took George out to play. (I do do this sometimes. I don’t always make his siblings watch him.) As we wandered around over the Arctic tundra, I saw something red sticking out of the play-set.
One of my kitchen rugs, of course.
Frozen solid to the floor.
“Oh yeah!” one of my children remembered. “So & So took those out for a game.” The other one, she added, was buried elsewhere in a snowdrift. “You’ll find it in the spring…probably…” Her smile was hopeful.
Grounds for adoption, I tell you!
Here’s the thing, though. You know that grill spatula my son used in his fort? It’s still sitting there. One, it’s his job to return it, not mine, and two…
It’s not like I’ll be needing it anytime soon.
Happy Saturday, everyone!
So funny. Sorry, probably not funny to you, but it gave me a good morning laugh.
You really must be a good mother to have ventured under that snow.
Gosh, I'm away for like…18 hours…and you post three times? Three? Can you give us a little warning if you decide to give away, say, a bottle of your husband's red wine?
PS You are nuts to go in that fort, lady. Next time just tell him you are too old. 😉 AND you have too many children to end up "Flat Margaret." 🙂
Sorry, Babs, you snooze you lose!
(If nothing else I owe you BIG time for calling you Babs like that.)
(Still, I've always wanted to.)
love your blog! i am a minnesota mom too!
come visit
Megan
http://www.thegreatletdown.com
You can call me anything — just don't call me late for dinner. 😉
LOL — "Flat Margaret"!! Love it.
I just KNEW you went in there. 🙂 You're such a good Mom.
And he's such a good Boy Scout. Do they do any winter camping in shelters like that? My sons' troop did! Mama was nervous the entire weekend…. but, thank God, they did alright!
Thank you for your prayers, with love~
Flat Margaret….I like it, it kind of has a ring like Fat Albert.
Only you are not fat or Albert for that matter.
When we had that couple day warm spell last week, we had friends over for Valentine's day and the kiddos we had over brought me in several utinsels they found in the wet muddy grass.
I wonder what else we will find in the spring time….
SO glad you went in, great fort!!!
Ha, Ha!! Flat Margaret!! You must be friends with….Flat Stanley!! TEE HEEE!!!
Love the fort, made by the Boy Scout. My son made one the last storm we had. Wow, that was almost 4 weeks ago! He's a Boy Scout too. Only he is 22. : ) Once a Scout, always a Scout. Yes, he's an Eagle.
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