My life’s goal (as a three-year-old) was the have a playhouse. I probably would have been satisfied with one of those plastic ones that can be bought and assembled in an afternoon, but my dad took this playhouse thing to a new extreme. It turned into a summer’s job and took a whole slew of people to complete. I guess being an only child had some major perks when it came to an over-the-top playhouse construction.
The shell of my playhouse was an old garden shed, but it was not going to be like that for long. With new windows cut out, a front porch added, and a few coats of crisp white paint began the transformation. My dad and grandpa were the contractors, while my mom and grandma were the interior designers. And, of course, I was the supervisor of the entire project. I may have been little, but being the boss was the best job to have. My main concern for the project was having enough pink and purple integrated into everyone’s area of the build. My requests were heard and fulfilled.
This was not an ordinary playhouse by any stretch of the imagination. It was the Taj Mahal of playhouses. My dad laid linoleum flooring with carpet squares to show the different rooms. My mom and grandma sewed window coverings. I had life made. My dad and grandpa even went as far as building shelving units, a refrigerator, and stove. The refrigerator was not complete without a place for magnets, so that feature was soon added.
Landscaping was not exactly my area of expertise, but that did not stop me from only requesting pink and purple flowers. All I knew is that I wanted certain colors, and they had to match the watering can I had when I was little. I never said my toddler logic had to make sense. With flower boxes and everyone’s help, the playhouse was finally coming together.
The final touch my dad added was a porch swing, because no playhouse is complete without one. I was so happy with everything. My mom and grandma spent an afternoon filling the shelves and refrigerator with play stuff. A trunk of dress up clothes made its home in the playhouse too. Everything was going great until the playhouse renovation was completed. I started crying and telling my parents I did not want it anymore. Keep in mind, I was three, and my processing skills were not there. I thought upon its completion I would have to live out in the playhouse and not with my parents in our house. It took some time for them to convince me of the purpose of the playhouse, but it was briefly traumatizing.
I made many memories in my playhouse. Some days it was a restaurant and, other days, it was my favorite getaway to just color and sing my heart out. My family and I had a blast building my playhouse, and I know they loved every minute of watching me enjoy it for years after that. They went above and beyond my hopes to make my home of tiny dreams.
©Inquisitive Perspectives 2017