I am an unabashed fan of blanket forts.
I’m sure that there are people out there who would look down on a woman in her thirties, and say “You’re too old for a blanket fort. Blanket forts are for children, and you should act like an adult.”
To which I would say a resounding “PBBBBBBT!” You’re never too old for a blanket fort.
Let’s face it…there are a lot of things in this world that people try to restrict via self-imposed age limits. By these shaky reasonings, “adults” aren’t supposed to like: cartoons, coloring books, Harry Potter, Legos, Star Wars, blanket forts, naps, pillow fights, nerf gun battles, goofy slippers, and a whole slew of other things.
The thing is, though, there is no real expiration date on fun and imagination and
creativity. Embracing these things – coloring books, cartoons, blanket forts, etc – does not necessarily mean we are trying to recapture our childhood, or ignoring the grownup responsibilities we have. Sometimes it just means we recognize that we’ve become caught up in the hustle and bustle and need to remember how to simplify things.
On Sunday, Robert built a beautiful blanket fort in the basement. This is not the first one we’ve made, but I think it was definitely the best so far. We put a small space heater in it, and it didn’t take long at all for the small space to warm up. There I was, surrounded by pillows and sleeping bags and quilts, and warmth – a small refuge from the worries of the day. Those blanket walls won’t keep out taxes and job worries and health concerns forever, but it helps to have a quiet place to retreat to every now and then.
I kept the fort up, with the intention of retreating to it throughout the week. In fact, when I left a doctor appointment early Tuesday with the most vicious pain I think I’ve felt, outside of a few post-surgery days, I decided to make use of one of my MANY available sick days and went home. My thought was I would carefully make my way into the tent, turn on the space heater, and collapse for a few hours of whining on the many pillows Robert had stashed inside…only to learn that the cats had fun while I was away, and haven’t quite worked out that they can’t walk across the fort ceiling and not have it cave in.
The fort is, momentarily, semi-destroyed. At least, until Robert comes back over and tells me how exactly he got the sheets to stay where they were.