"I want a fort really, really bad Mommy. Can we make one?"
Today I said yes.
Yes, and a pile of wood destined for the dump became a flying boat fort. He built it nearly half himself. Singing, hammering, adding knobs and buttons and tubing and the appropriate tree fort signs. And then he came in for lunch and over rice with tamari and avocado slices he drew this absolutely awesome self portrait.
"Why is it white just around your head?" I wanted to know.
"Because I'm sticking my head through the hole in my treehouse, and there is space between my head and the hole. Don't you get it, Mommy?"
And then I did get it. I love the way he thinks.