Sunday, March 15, 2009


My son has discovered the glorious fun that is known as the "couch fort" -- thanks to my mother and Corby.

He asks me almost everyday to "make his fort" which consists of pulling one of the large seat cushions off and propping it up against the outside of the sofa.  He will then arrange the throw pillows to his liking; often piling them around him so that only his head is stinking out -- or not piling any at all and laying on the mere lining fabric which is poky from the couch springs.  

The other day Corby built him a real fancy one constructed with a roof from expertly placed cushions and years of couch fort construction expertise.  While I was cooking in the kitchen and Corby was in the bathroom, Quen climbed on top and fell off the back.  I ran into the den when I heard screaming only to see his little feet sticking up in the air as he was trapped in a "standing on your hands" position up against the wall. So needless to say we will be sticking to the barest of forts from here on out.

Sometimes he refuses to leave his "fort" and insists on taking his meals (actually just snacks, but "meals" sounded more funny) in the nook.

Quen's fort.

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