Fostering curiosity in kids (and their parents) since 2011

In which I discover that my four-year-old has a lair

Preschooler, eying my Eeyore mug: “Everybody knows about Eeyore, Mommyo. You know, I’ve even seen Eeyore.”

Mother: “You have? Where?”

Preschooler, nonchalantly: “Oh, in my hunter’s lair.”

Mother: “Really? Where is that? Behind the blanket rack?”

Preschooler, giggling: “No, silly, that’s Doc’s garage.”

Mother, trying to think where else her daughter huddles in the playroom: “Behind the big leather chair?”

Preschooler, making a noise that sounds like a cross between a raspberry and a chortle: “Nah. That’s the sproing cat nesting ground.”

Mother: “I give up. Where is it?”

The Hunter's Lair, complete with T. Rex nest (the frisbee filled with shredded yarn) and today's inspirational message (about making and keeping friends).

Preschooler: “Behind the big box, of course.”

(The big box is the box containing the new storage ottoman that we ordered from Ikea to replace our old one, which is slowly collapsing under the weight of all the unfinished knitting stored inside it. The box, which we immediately pressed into service as an end table for our couch and a communications board for any dinosaurs in residence in the house, has been waiting patiently for months to us to open it and assemble the ottoman inside. Building the ottoman had been on my Honey-do list for Columbus Day weekend, but now that I know the box is a hunter’s lair, it looks like we’ll be going to the Topsfield Fair instead.)

4 Responses to “In which I discover that my four-year-old has a lair”

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