The Clubhouse of Chaos – A Tradition Continues

Every Christmas afternoon as a child, we’d go to my G-ma and G-pa’s house.

We would show up, and immediately see that “Santa” had brought us something: A House.

With squeals of glee, my sister and I would immediately disappear into the cardboard contraption.

Typically these houses had a very short life span – cardboard not being the most durable of materials.

Somehow one lasted until I was in third grade, held to together by that magical thing which has a light side and a dark side and binds this universe together: duct tape.

Until a two weeks ago, I believed these houses were extinct – along with the durable Fisher Price toys that could not only outlast a single child, but would endure for multiple generations to use.

This year, as I perused the Kohl’s Toy Department (all 100 square feet of it) for something to spend my $10 in Kohl’s bucks on before they expired, I finally found one.

Marked 60% off.

In hind sight, I should have bought all that remained, not just one – having forgotten the previously mentioned Durability Issue.

Instead, I shall have to invest heavily in duct tape.

The Clubhouse of Chaos immediately claimed the spot where the Christmas tree stood just last weekend.  It was gifted for Lil Diva to share (to eliminate The Tackler from declaring I Don’t Wanna Share Because It is MINE) as a belated present from – who else – G-ma and G-pa.

The Clubhouse of Chaos - with Lil Diva to show actual size.

Yes, it also doubled as bribery – not only convincing The Tackler we could finally take down the tree, but going so far as to encourage his aid in the dismantling process.

The pristine condition lasted about fifteen minutes, before the piece underneath the door ripped.

Two days later like rust on a car, the duct tape has begun its slow takeover.

And I once again curse my shortsightedness on not buying out the store.

Meanwhile, The Tackler and Lil Diva are ecstatic. They love the Clubhouse of Chaos.

Sometimes a little too much.

This game fascinated her and the Tackler.

Lil Diva spent ten minutes straight yesterday just sliding a piece of junk mail into the mailbox slot, going inside, picking it up, exiting the Clubhouse, reinserting the mail – over and over and over again.

The windows are now a favorite peek-a-boo spot for her.

The battle for Clubhouse Chaos Door Dominance does rage… frequently.

The Tackler has had multiple evictions for infractions like climbing out through the window and tearing it.

I’m sure in a week, the door will be more duct tape than cardboard.

For now, I relive my childhood through my kids. 🙂

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About Kelly K @ Dances with Chaos

Kelly K has learned the five steps to surviving of motherhood: 1) Don't get mad. Grab your camera. 2) Take a photograph. 3) Blog about it. 4) Laugh. 5) Repeat. She shares these tales at Dances with Chaos in order to preserve what tiny amount of sanity remains. You can also find her on her sister blog, Writing with Chaos (www.writingwithchaos.com) sharing memoir and engaging in her true love: fiction writing. It's cheaper than therapy.
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2 Responses to The Clubhouse of Chaos – A Tradition Continues

  1. Marianne says:

    We were neglected as children. We were just given a brown cardboard box and a pair of scissors. Once I realized how hard it was to cut a door into a cardboard box, I decided it only had a garage door and you just lifted one end of the box to get in…

    • Kelly K says:

      Cardboard boxes were the best – especially the appliance sized ones. We had to make do with those at my parent’s house.

      It was only at the g-rents that we were spoiled with a “real” house. And that house stayed there. Along with the toy piano, toy drums, and all other loud noise making toys.

      I think my mom was on to something. If only her house was close enough to leave the loud toys there for my kids….

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