It’s a playground!
Well, the start of a playground.
Only two days later and here’s what we have:
The Addisons bought the ball and hoop and set it up. It’s only five feet high, still way too high for Devon to dunk. But he loves to try—when he can get the ball away from Sydney and me.
The swing set came from my backyard. Jake and I haven’t used it for years, but it was still sitting there. Devon won’t let anybody push him.
The pipe. It’s plastic. Black. Thirty-six inches across. My parents got it from a friend who’s laying a storm sewer. They had ten feet of pipe left over. All my parents had to do was haul it here on the truck and smooth out the edges. It’s perfect—and irresistible—for a little kid to crawl through. Not to mention his big-girl babysitters, who he orders to play the parts of monsters or T. rexes or man-eating crocs chasing him through the Tunnel of Doom.
Devon hasn’t asked to go to McDonald’s in two days.