where wildly different is perfectly normal
Even grownups need blanket forts
Even grownups need blanket forts

Even grownups need blanket forts

A few weeks ago, on the cusp of final exams, one of my flute students came into her lesson, collapsed onto the chair and wearily declared:

“When I’m done with finals I’m building a blanket fort and binge-watching Netflix for 12 hours.”

It’s been that kind of spring for all of my students.

It’s been that kind of spring (and winter) for all the adults I know.

It’s been a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad several months for most of the country and we’re all feeling it.

I thought the blanket fort idea was so brilliant that I literally assigned it to every single one of my students that week. I shared it with my friends on Facebook, and more than one teacher sighed with longing and said they would do it too.

Oh, the best of intentions. I really and truly intended to build my blanket fort the Friday of Memorial Day Weekend, to crawl in and read and watch bad TV and color in my profanity-laced adult coloring book and growl at anyone who dared disturb me. The road to hell is paved with good intentions…my road to hell is not only paved with good intentions but has lovely landscaping as well. While I did finally snatch a Saturday from the jaws of productivity to sit on the couch and not do a damned thing, I am still sans blanket fort.

Remember building blanket forts as a kid? Gathering up the old blankets and couch cushions and card tables to create a kid-sized hidey-hole? I did that a lot as a kid; I remember listening to the original Star Wars soundtrack on a Fisher-Price record player, over and over and over, while camped out in a blanket fort. My brother and I built so many forts that my parents just gave up on ever having their card table back. They were cozy and kid-sized and private.

Why did we stop? Even grownups need blanket forts.

Man Caves and She Sheds are the adult equivalent, I guess, but they lack the coziness and certainly lack the creativity of designing and building it yourself. Plus I don’t have a few thousand dollars propping up a table leg to throw at something like that. I do have blankets and couch cushions and card tables and the deep desire to be left alone for a few hours.

So this summer I vow to build a blanket fort. Hopefully it’ll fall on a stormy day, which makes them even cozier and more fun. I’ll dig out my supplies and gather my entertainment and be a kid again for a few hours. I may even let the boys join me, which kinds defeats the privacy part but jacks up the memory points by a factor of a million. We’ll listen to music and read and color and eat snacks and watch TV and just let the outside world burn for an afternoon.

Go build. Ignore adult responsibilities and the world outside your flannel walls. Make some memories. Life kinda sucks out there right now, so I’m assigning blanket forts to everyone.

Blanket forts. Soothing the inner child since forever.


  1. Carol

    My 11 year old son and I love, love, love blanket forts! Our living room was one big blanket fort during November for NaNoWriMo. We go all out with twinkle lights, music, the laptop for movies, and plenty of snacks. It’s our own little world and makes for a good escape. We homeschool, so we “do school” in the blanket fort as well. (And, yes, I will often sneak in there by myself just to get away from everyone…I mean…everyTHING.) 🙂

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