"Pirates are like my favorite kind of bad-guy"

Amy assembled bunk-beds for the boys, but 24 hours later, the beds are gone, replaced by one great pirate ship. It had a wooden stake sticking up from it, covered with some blanket - no doubt the Jolly Roger herself, and all three children spent a good deal of time this past weekend on the upper deck. The most hilarious crew-member was Madeleine, who, in spite of her tininess, insisted on going up there. And she wouldn't say, "I want to go on the bunk bed" - she would say - or rather yelp - "I want to go on the ship!"

The pirate ship seems to keep reappearing after each night, during which it is temporarily demoted to the banalilty of a makeshift bed.

Saturday was one of those typical ones when we come home ostensibly to walk the dogs and take care of a few short tasks in the late afternoon with the intention of effectively "refueling" for another outing, only to find that we're not actually going anywhere: home turns out to be the Saturday evening destination after all... As soon as Daniel found out he was staying home, he seemed thrilled, and asked if he could please go put on his pajamas.

This seemed odd: none of our young'uns are bedtime enthusiasts (although Ian will sometimes "check out" at bedtime when he has had his Daniel-and-stimuli quota (but I repeat myself) for the day. Why did Daniel want to put on his pajamas? Because he had found the perfect combo of mismatched pajamas to formulate a pirate's costume: light-blue-on-navy-blue striped pajama bottoms and a Buzz Lightyear top. I'm sure everybody thinks "pirate" when they see Buzz Lightyear... But the pajama bottoms made much more sense: Daniel pointed out that they're they kind worn by "pirate's helpers" - except that the pirates' helpers' stripped pants usually have rips in them which Daniel thinks is really "cool." (We can't really afford to simulate the pirate wardrobe too closely.) Daniel said his pajamas have "got to be the kind I used to be a pirate in." Meanwhile, Daniel's sword was a yellow dollar-store recorder (yes, the instrument). Madeleine's was an 18-inch pen, which she called her "pen-sword." Occasionally, they give me a sword with which to defend myself (against them), but it's usually roughly a third a size of their own weaponry.

(March 26, 2011)