Prime real estate…

The biggest advantage to our move to Ohio is that we’d have more space.  Living on top of each other in our tiny bungalow in Colorado, the shift to our suburban home seemed like a massive upgrade. Finally, we had room to breathe, spread out, and scatter clothes around.

And yet, despite all the space in our home, the kids still tend to congregate around the living room and kitchen.

It doesn’t matter that there’s a room completely dedicated to their toys, a virtual play mecca garnished with a door to close the madness behind.  My kids are the Daniel Day Lewis to my Madeleine Stowe.  No matter how long it takes, no matter how far, they will find me.

I’ve grown a bit more accustomed to herds of ponies and convoys of construction vehicles being hauled downstairs to be played with in close proximity to the adults.  And I’ve eased up a little bit on my “let’s not use the couch as a diving board” tirade.  So what if they’ve migrated to the living room to play?  As long as they’re happy and I can make dinner in peace, then all is right in the house.

Except now, they’ve infiltrated the kitchen.

My kids have recently undertaken playing in our kitchen cabinets.  I mean, physically crawling inside them to hang out.  Because there’s no room in the house to play, apparently.

I don’t know if it’s the comforting surroundings of Tupperware and stainless steel, or the darkness of the cabinetry that entices them.  They used to do this a bit when we were in Denver, and it drove me crazy.  But I chalked it up to not having their own creative space.

However, this activity has followed us to Ohio, and I need to put an end to it.  I admit it, I’m a Virgo.  If pans aren’t in their proper place when I open up a cabinet, my world starts to spin.

Add the footprints of a 6 year-old on my All-Clad sauce pan, and I’m not sure I can handle this.

I don’t want to stifle their creativity, though.  At first, it was pretty cute.  They’d break ground, lay foundation, and make those cabinets in to their Kitty Houses, Hotels, or Bunkers.  Adorably knocking on one another’s abode, asking if they’d like a spot of tea or a tasty kitty treat, then crawling back in to their respective holes like a hobbit.

But sooner than later, things turn ugly.  They realize that real estate is a bit cramped, pans get the heave-ho, ice cube trays become front porches, and I start to slowly lose sight of the creative play and start seeing loads of dishes to be cleaned.

If you have more than one kid, you know how this story ends.  They begin to get house envy.   Bickering over who gets to reside in which cabinet.  Ransacking the other’s habitat in an effort to make in look like a tenement house on the brink of foreclosure and up for a quick sale.

That’s when management slaps eviction notices on both sets of doors and tells them they have less than a minute to grab their stuff and leave.  And like squatters, they always return when I least expect it.

But, you know what they say about real estate.  It’s all about location, location, location.

 

What odd places do your kids stake out to play?

 

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