You’re building what?
All that scrap wood from the neighborhood has found a new use

While growing up, one of my best friends had the neatest tree house. It had two levels, a trap door to get to the upper level and another for a quick escape out the back, and a fire pole to slide down.

It wasn’t the prettiest thing by any stretch of the imagination. It was made from a lot of scrap lumber from his dad’s shop. It was put together like a jigsaw puzzle, as any type of board — no matter the size — was fair game to be used. I liked Joe’s tree house so much that I built one similar to it at my house.

I know what Joe’s parents went through while he acted as a contractor. My youngest daughter, Robin, and several other kids in the neighborhood have started building their own fort.

“Daddy, will you take me to Home Depot when you get home from work tomorrow night?” Robin asked me one evening.

I tapped the side of my head, not sure I understood the question. Robin usually groans and moans when I mention stopping by The Home Depot to run in for something.

“There’s no such thing as a quick trip in that store for you,” she always says.

But this time she had my interest.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“I want to go to Home Depot and buy some wood,” Robin replied.

My first thought was that she was buttering me up for something else. Robin knows that asking to go shopping at what I think of as my toy store is to also get on my good side. My second thought was she must have fallen off her bike and bumped her head extremely hard. She must have meant she wanted to go to Zippy Mart and buy some Skittles.

I stopped short of saying OK, realizing I was about to get suckered into something.

“Why do you need to go buy wood?” I asked.

“We’re building a fort,” she said.

“We are?”

“Not you, Daddy. Me and Austin and Brittany and Lauren are building a fort and we need some wood. And if we go to Home Depot, you can buy us some — just like you did when you built the house. Austin and Brittany and Lauren already brought some wood from their house, and now it’s my turn.”

“Well, we donated the land,” said my wife Lori. “Ya’ll are building the fort on our lot, right?”

“Yes, M’am,” Robin said. “I didn’t think about that.”

She also didn’t lose sight of her fort, and quickly got back on track.

“Well, how about all that wood in the garage? What can I have out there?”

“There’s really nothing out there you can have, Robin,” I said.

“Oh, come on,” Lori said. “There’s got to be some scrap wood out there. You’ll never use all that.”

“You never know when something will come up that I need that,” I said.

“It’s been there long and hasn’t been used yet,” Lori said. “Robin, when your Daddy leaves the house sometime, we’ll go out there and find some wood you can use.”

“I guess the next thing is I’ll come home one day and find my air compressor, framing gun, chop saw and hammer in the woods with a massive fort being built,” I said.

“No, Daddy, we’re using hammers and stuff that belong to Austin’s daddy.”

“Does Mr. Allen know,” I asked. “You know I wouldn’t want you using my stuff without me knowing.”

I shouldn’t complain about the fact that the kids are staying busy. They are outside getting plenty of fresh air, they’re enjoying each other’s company, and they’re making memories that will hopefully last a lifetime.

I have vivid memories of playing in the woods and building forts and making bike trails. We worked hard on those things, spending days putting sticks together to make a hut, or raking leaves for another trail. I always wondered if Dad ever knew where that missing hammer really was. Not only did those projects get me outside, it usually got me away from the house and possibly some chores.

Who knows? Maybe some of those building skills I learned then rubbed off on my kids and they’ll build a fort they can be proud of.

What the heck? Maybe Robin and I will make a trip to The Home Depot and build a fort like Joe and I had when we were youngsters.