My youngest son holds a black belt in opportunity seizure. I’m not sure how, but Master Carpe Diem possesses the uncanny knack of knowing the exact moment my common sense weakens, and before I can blink…KABLAM…we’re building a treehouse.
Plans for the Dutch Elm Alamo have been in the works for several years, but I prayed the phase would pass with the approaching teen years; yeah – no such luck. In fact, the blueprints morphed from a few, random size 2X4’s and a box of nails into Swiss Family Elliott around the time of the last report card.
“Look, all A’s! Doesn’t that deserve a reward?” (I see a political future.)
But what put me over the edge? What drove me to the brink of backyard insanity?
Three little words; life is short.
We’ve all said it, but did you ever really think about it?
Unfortunately, I have. I can’t put my finger on the exact moment, but somewhere between losing my first friend to cancer and watching a fifth start chemo, my perspective shifted from someday to right away.
Thus – treehouse!
Now, for those of you who follow Babble regularly, you know Hubby and I are not – in any way, shape or form – construction savvy; our toolbox is duct tape, a glue gun and bandages – lots of bandages.
So, we called in the cavalry! And thanks to the phenomenal talents of our friend Rick – an extraordinary carpenter and very, very patient man – we now have a Fortress of Solitude for Master Carpe Diem and his Nerf Weapons of Doom. Rick, God love him, did let Hubby take a shot with the nail gun – but after a near stigmata incident – Hubs was relegated back to wood hauling and refreshment refills.
Lesson today – life is short! Go out on a limb!