A room of one’s own (sort of)

I thought of it when I woke up in the middle of the night and was pondering what to do with the enormous cardboard boxes our new bed came in. I thought of a den. I thought about poking some holes in it and sticking fairy lights through them. Like a treehouse, I thought. The next day, I shoved the two sofas together and “built” it.

“It’s not a treehouse,” my boys said. “Because it’s not in a tree.” They still like it, but they’ve been calling it a tent.

“We’re not leaving it up after they go to bed,” David said. I told him we could pretend we were camping and sleeping under the stars. We put the campfire [electric fire] on nearby and watched The Daily Show Election Special.

Today, I got in with my laptop and called it my writing den.

Maybe we won’t ever take it down…


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