Until this past weekend we had a large plastic jungle gym and slide in our library. (It goes without saying that I am known as the ‘cool slide lady’ to my friends’ children.) My kids have used that gym for the past five years as a fort, pirate ship, dog catcher vehicle, and space rocket. They have also used it as a mechanism to sprain ankles, bonk heads, bang elbows, and scare years of life out of their mother.
Good times, good times.
However, either the house has grown smaller or we have acquired more stuff. Or both. Therefore, as a family we decided (and by ‘as a family’ I mean me) the age of the jungle gym was over and I sold it to my cousin who has a toddler and is expecting her second child.
We now have all this space in the library. We have room to sprawl on the floor and look at books. We have room for pretend sword fighting (dear heaven above let it stay pretend, pleeeeeaase.) We have room for somersaults and leap frog.
Evidently we also have room to build gigantic tent-like forts and huts.
Does this remind anybody else just a little bit of Occupy Wall Street? Except without all the hipsters, cell phones, angry Americans, and public urination (dear heaven above let there be no public urination in this room, pleeeeeaase.)
I call this Occupy Momstreet. There are three of them and they are the 66.67%.