This evening as I was doing dishes, I heard an odd whooshing sound and turned around to find Cubby pulling Poppy through the kitchen in a big box.
"That's a good big box for her," I remarked.
"It's her jail," he replied, continuing to haul her into the living room. He parked her there in her jail-box and he and Charlie spent some time taping up any escape routes.
This didn't seem to concern her unduly.
I had to ask what she did to get in jail.
Charlie: She didn't pay her taxes. For her job.
Me: Her taxes? For what job?
Cubby: She flies planes.
Me: Ah. She's a pilot who didn't pay her taxes. Better let Uncle Jim* know what happens to pilots who don't pay their taxes.
Cubby and Charlie took turns patrolling past the jail, adding some home comforts for the pleasure of the tax-evading baby pilot.
Happy prisoners are easier to control, you know.
They also constructed a perimeter wall to foil any escape attempts. And gave her a flashlight.
Obviously a pleasing addition to the cell.
I must say that the baby being held prisoner in the box that formerly contained her diapers seems very appropriate.
Just a Tuesday night with kids.
* My brother is an airline pilot. He's very scrupulous about paying his taxes, though, I'm sure.
5 comments:
I love the boys' imaginations. Great stories!
Great imagination your boys have and your daughter seems to like her jail. Bet you are glad you have moved out of New York. They are expecting lots of snow.
Those adorable boys! What will they think of next?
Linda
Wow. That's some big box; absolutely perfect for imaginative games - something the boys excel at! Good job, mom, letting them find things to do and make a mess doing it.
Hahahaa! That really made me laugh - in the best way! I wonder why Poppy the pilot had been evading taxes? Is she shuttling something into the country that she shouldn't a la Air America? Is she planning something bigger? Is she a foreign spy? I think I couldn't have resisted getting stuck into that story - your boys are a ton of fun.
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