The fort-building flame has been rekindled a bit now that I have young kids, but when I participate I primarily do it for their amusement. My joy comes vicariously through their experience of the fort, but not so much from the fort itself.
I can tell that my 3-year-old literally experiences a couch-cushion tunnel as a cave of wonders. I can see an imaginative overlay comes over my daughter’s mind that actually transforms the living room into a vivid rain-forest. Play is serious business — and I don’t say that at all sarcastically.
A couple of weeks ago my son and daughter hung blankets from our kitchen table to create a fort. They asked if they could sleep in their “tent” that night and were thrilled when my wife and I said yes. They had their books, their lanterns, and their Sparkle stories. It was a thrilling adventure for them.
Where did my magic go? Why is it that I’m not tearing apart the furniture and stringing blankets across the room to create magical caverns of my own? When did doing something “productive” take precedent over getting lost in an imaginative…