Me: "This is Big Mama calling Little Bandit... Little bandit, do you read me?...over."
Son: " I copy you Big Mama, loud and clear."
Me: " I'm just checking on your E.T.A. for dinner. Chickens on the plate!...over."
Son: "Mom...what's E.T.A?"
Me: "That would be your Estimated Time of Arrival....over."
Son: "What?"
Me: "Dinner's ready.... you need to be turning wheels and shifting gears....over."
Son: " Dinner's ready?"
Me: " Roger that....over."
Son: " YES!!! 10- 4 ,I'll be right there........over and out."
After a few building trips, my son honored my husband with an invitation to see the progress. After he went to see it, I peppered my husband with motherly questions.
"Does it look like an 8 year old made it?"
"Yes."
"Is it high off the ground?"
"Slightly."
"Is it safe?"
"No."
"Should I go and see it?"
"Probably not. It's better to be unaware."
This information made my Mother Hen instincts come out. I could just envision the potential hazards. My husband tells me that all little boys need to build forts, so I should just leave him alone. Today he invited me to look at the progress. I brought the camera along.
I feel the need to point out a few minor things about the beginnings of this fort. Let's just consider this next picture as:
Exhibit A:
I have noted just a few of my major concerns about the location of this fort.
Exhibit B
The fort is held together with old nails and rotting boards. If you weigh more than 100 # I don't recommend sitting on it.
Exhibit C
Hmmm...looks a lot safer than some of those "ramps" you and your brother "constructed" in the middle of the street to jump with your bicycles. It's best to just say...Hmmm very nice, be careful. :) Who knows, this may be the start of a "construction" gene handed down from his great grandpa, grumpy and his uncle Ricky. :)
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