indoor magic

I spent the morning sorting dusty boxes and handing carefully torn pieces of scotch tape through a small attic door to a 12 year old child.  It's not how I wanted our morning to go but last night she had asked if she might have the space under the attic eve for a playhouse and for whatever reason I had said "yes". 

The real plan for the day had been a few rounds of Name That State, a little reading and writing. Perhaps if things went well History- you never know.  

I was up at 6 am to run and shower before the house was awake enough to stop me. By 8:30 I was making a small dent all the household laundry that had been set aside for BC's work clothes. 

I made Beach a breakfast of toast and banana-strawberry smoothies. Drank a few cups of coffee and started the job of pulling the assortment of holiday boxes, forgotten crates, and home schooling books from the dark, cramped, & sloping storage room. 

By 11:00 Beach having helped empty & vacuum the space was taping Christmas tree lights to the unfinished drywall. 

By 11:15 she had moved in and shut the door. 

I could have said no. That would have been easiest. After all she is 12 now, does she really need a play space?  One that experience tells me will be abandoned in a matter of a few short weeks.  

And until then, the displaced boxes will have to be put somewhere. It's up to me to figure that out where in this little house to fit them.

I could have put her off saying, "not today" or said something ridiculous like "let me check with your father" or the one the kids hate the most "let me pray about it".

But I said "yes".  So now she is behind the walls eating lunch like a little mouse.  A happy little mouse.  

Score one point of light for childhood.