My eldest son and his friend came running down the stairs this afternoon, out of breath and very intent. Here is the conversation:
Son & Friend: Mom! Mom! Quick! We need duct tape and string!
Me: You do?
S&F: Yes! Hurry!
Me: Um, where’s your sister?
(quick glances between the two boys)
S&F: Playing with us.
Me: Really? So what do you need the duct tape and string for?
S&F: Well, we’re making a clubhouse. We need the duct tape to tape the towel to the doorway of the cubby (a small space in boys’ room).
Me: And the string?
(more glances back and forth)
S&F: Weeeelllll . . .
S&F: Weeelllll, every clubhouse has to have a dog, and Shayna is going to be the dog. We are going to tie her to the pretend tree we made out of the coat rack.
Me: Um, gee, I don’t think she’s going to like that too much. How about just the duct tape for the towel?
S&F: Ok! But what will we do if the dog gets loose and runs away?
Me: Make sure you have some snacks. I’m sure she’ll stay in your clubhouse if you feed her.
S&F: GOOD IDEA! Let’s get some popcorn!
(playdate continues with no casualties)