Yesterday, Emma made an announcement. "Mommy, let's build a port." "A fort?" "No, a port. Poorrrt!" (I love how she says the word slowly, so I can understand.) "Emms, do you mean a fort with the furniture and blankets?" "The blankets, yes, but Mommy, it's called a PORT." Alrighty then. Knowing that she would not believe what I said, I tried a different tactic. "Emma, do you know who is the best fort builder in all the land? Daddy is!" "I know, Daddy builds great ports." So, we called him. Emma left him a message, saying the following: "Hi Daddy, it's me, Emma. We are having the blankets and the couches and is it called a port or a fort? Love you, Bye!" With that discussion over, we got on to building. I was not thinking straight when I had agreed to this, I am seven months pregnant trying to re-arrange the furniture?!? Crapola! There was no way to get out of this now, once you tell a child that the fort will be built, you have to follow through or risk creating a rift that will put that child in therapy for years to come.
So, I took the easy route, and carefully pushed the love seat over so it was facing the couch. (Yes, mom, I was very careful, and did not over-exert myself!) This made a boat-like thing, and I threw our bedspread over the top. Good enough. The kids loved it and had a great time for quite a while, till Emma decided it wasn't good enough and wanted a bigger one. I knew there was no way I was going to build a bigger fort, but I realized that Marty's schedule would have him driving within a mile of our house during naptime. When he called Emma back to tell her it was a fort, not a port, I asked if he had time to stop by and build a bigger fort. He said he would have a few minutes between appointments, so he would be able to come. Yay! Leverage for bribing the kids!
At lunchtime, I told Emma that if she ate her lunch quickly and quietly, a magical fairy would come during nap to build a really cool fort. This worked really well until it was time for the boys' nap and I could not find Grant's Ted. Ted is a tedddy bear blankie that is imperative for nap, there is no way he will sleep without it, and any attempts to switch it out for another animal have been unsuccessful. I searched for about a half an hour, finally finding it shoved in a box in Emma's room. Meanwhile, Marty had shown up and started moving the couches around. Emma panicked. "No, Daddy! Leave them there so a magical fairy will come over and build a better fort for me!" Honestly, could you have resisted that one? It was set up so perfectly... "Emma, do you think there is a chance that your Daddy is a fairy?" I tried to contain my laughter as Marty glared at me. Emma did not see the humor, and yelled, "My Daddy is NOT a fairy!" Marty was so proud that his daughter had stood up for him, and I was still laughing too hard to correct her sassiness. I apologized to Marty (but didn't really mean it,) put Emma to bed, and Marty finished the fort and left. I giggled all afternoon.