From Coop to Couch

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I hereby declare my couch once again to be a couch.

I will sit on it. I will read. I will watch movies. I will use those fabulously soft blankets I bought for cozying up rather than serving as a helicopter deck.

My couch has, at various times during this week, been:
  • a helicopter
  • a really big rescue helicopter
  • a barge
  • a fireboat
  • a scuba dive boat
And, even more randomly today: a chicken coop.

@'s imagination is amazing and amusing at the same time. The detail he puts into his creations -- that he will at length explain -- is always very carefully considered. These pillows are the seats, but those pillows are the parachutes. The smaller animals are afraid, so they stay away from the doors and windows in the middle of the cabin.

We were rescuing animals yesterday. The burping cat (aka a stuffed Garfield for which he does not know the actual name but saw on television at some point) had fallen overboard and the dogs were lowering the rescuer to save him. The gray dog was to do first aid while the brown one piloted the helicopter to a hospital.

Today my entire tv room was a chicken coop and I, of course, Mama Chicken. Lucas tired of the pecking early on, but the gambit went on from about 8a to 2p when x came to pick @ up. Mac and cheese for lunch became chicken feed. Corn for lunch -- well, chickens already eat corn, dontcha know? Thankfully, with only minor encouragement to do so, he abandoned his first idea of spreading it on the carpet and pecking to eat it.

But now, blankets reclaimed, cushions replaced, and the legion of stuffed buddies returned to @'s room, the couch is mine.

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