I had a dream. I had an awesome dream.
No wait, I’m pretty sure that was Lionel Richie. Well, I think my dream was still pretty great.
Superman has the Fortress of Solitude. Is a pillow fort too much to ask? I dream of a pillow fort. A castle, squishy and true, that will be my own. A place of blankets and snacks and piles of books. Accessible to others only by answering three questions, each more daunting than the last. A Pillow Fort of Awesomeness!
But how will it be protected from invaders? The walls of a pillow fort would do little to withstand the onslaught of Vikings or other surly folk. Fear not! My Pillow Fort of Awesomeness will be guarded by trained skunks. It will be armed with trebuchets that launch bags of marbles and durian fruit. Also, I’m pretty sure pillow forts are low on the priorities of most roving bandits. Though I’m pretty sure my wife and kids will try to get in. But I’m fond of them, so that’s ok. I might make them bring their own snacks, though.
Now, to face reality. The Pillow Fort of Awesomeness is something that will not happen. Oh, the idea is glorious. But the time required for the undertaking of building the fort is something I don’t have. Also, the financial aspect of it is far too great for my pocket. Never mind acquiring and training the skunks. Never mind that I don’t know the first thing about building a successful trebuchet. Never mind that I really don’t feel like stockpiling durian fruit.
I just don’t own that many pillows.
The weather is (happily) becoming cooler. Now, even though I am pleased when it starts to get colder there are some people who wish it would stay warm. I can only assume these people are connected to some infernal bloodline which thrives on fire. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
Of course, I still have to dress differently for the cooler weather which is fine. Long pants, long sleeves, and socks. Preferably Smartwool socks, when I have a clean pair. But I notice that my children seem to differ in opinion, particularly Zoe. She seems to hate socks. We put them on her, but the get pulled off pretty quickly. Phoebe used to do this too, but she seems to have largely stopped. It could have something to do with the fact that she’s old enough to want to have socks with Disney princesses and My Little Ponies on them. But once in a while, she joins her little sister in combined sock rebellion.
Don’t get me wrong, the girls have cute little feet. But I worry that they will become cold little feet. Not that it seems to bug either of them. I’ll touch Zoe’s bare foot and it will be ice-cold. I ask why she keeps taking her socks off. Because she’s two, she pretty much just laughs at me. And the additional frustration comes from the fact that once taken off, the offending socks may disappear. If not collected quickly enough, they can get sucked into some kind of vortex in the multiverse. Or possibly Narnia. I’m not sure because we still have missing socks and the ones that do turn up offer no clues. As you know, socks don’t talk. Not unless you make them into sock puppets, but then they only know what you know which often isn’t much.
I don’t get it. Is this something that all little kids do? I don’t remember doing this. Neither of my parents ever told me that I did. Is this a new thing? Did some kind of psychic memo start to circulate between toddlers of the world? Do they consider socks a tool of the parental establishment? Or are my kids just a pair of sock-hating goofballs? Maybe this is an omen of things to come. What if the girls slowly rebel against all clothes and join a nudist community? What if they start trying to wear gloves on their feet and hats as pants? I just don’t know where this ends.