Quick! Appease the readers!
Although nobody has pointed this out to me yet, the past two posts contain no pictures of the wee beasts. This sort of reckless posting puts me dangerously close to alienating my base readership (mom, et cetera). Without delay, I present the basement! Not long ago, we almost-kinda-sorta finished part of the basement ("A bucket of bleach, some cans of paint, and I'll have this place ship-shape in no time" -- Jacqueline Ogburn from a beloved book). Many of the kids' toys have taken permanent residence in the basement, but the world-beating toy down there is the inflatable house.
Well, it used to be a house. The green and yellow parts that now resemble flaps used to attach to form a roof-like structure. These days it's more like a box, but for simplicity's sake, we'll continue to refer to it as a house. One way to use it is to sit in the house and play (like maybe "playing house," for example), but that mode of operation lacks in both amusement and parental anxiety.
The preferred game for the house is something that the children have named "Shipwreck." Shipwreck is straightforwar
d: the people inside the house stand by its walls and rock it back and forth until it comes to its inevitable concussion conclusion.
Well, it used to be a house. The green and yellow parts that now resemble flaps used to attach to form a roof-like structure. These days it's more like a box, but for simplicity's sake, we'll continue to refer to it as a house. One way to use it is to sit in the house and play (like maybe "playing house," for example), but that mode of operation lacks in both amusement and parental anxiety.
The preferred game for the house is something that the children have named "Shipwreck." Shipwreck is straightforwar
d: the people inside the house stand by its walls and rock it back and forth until it comes to its inevitable 
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