My son had a birthday just the other day, he is now three. He’s now at the perfect age to bring a playhouse in to his life and therefore a new garden building in to our outdoor living space. Since all of the work we have done on and around the house in the last couple of years is now close to completion we have found the perfect spot to erect the playhouse where his imagination can develop new worlds for him to explore and he can invent new games to play within it. It also has a slide which is over twice as long and twice as fast as his previous plastic based tower, which has been given to a friend’s child who will be able to use it for at least another couple of years, so we are saving the planet in our own little recycling way.
When the plastic tower was dismantled and lay in an unrecognisable mess on the floor the first thing my son did was walk all over it and laugh at how it wobbled under his feet. After three calls, in ever ascending tone and volume, from me for him to get off it, he finally did. I was amazed at how he took the news of the towers demise so well, although we had told him that he was getting a shed for himself (he likes visiting Daddy’s shed a lot although tools, nails and the like do not mix with three year olds ). His shed would be on legs and have a much better slide. So from just that short description he was sold on the idea of the ugly grey tower being extracted from our garden never to be seen again. It always amazes me what a three year old can understand.
Without so much as being shown a picture of what my son’s shed (playhouse) would look like he was still very excited when the building arrived in our back garden. Although in pieces and without being told what it was he instantly said, ‘Is that my shed, Daddy?’ ‘Yes, mate. Daddy has to put it together first though.’ He smiled at me and then said, ‘Okay, put it together for me.’ There’s nothing like being told what to do to annoy you, even a three year old as cute as he is has his demands. So for the next couple of nights after work I desperately tried and succeeded in getting it built and painted (preservative) for him for the weekend. Of course he was always saying, ‘Play with me?’ and I’d responded, ‘Daddy’s putting your playhouse together, darling.’ Our time together is precious to us both and working long hours can sometimes get in the way of the quality time (God I hate that sort of term) that we both desire from one another. But for the greater good I pressed on until completion.
By the weekend the playhouse was up and running and my son was up the ladder and down the slide ten or fifteen time in about two minutes flat and in and out of the door over and over again almost like he was testing it in some kind of European car testing facility, all that was missing were the crash test dummies and the black and yellow stickers. The playhouse passed all of his tests and he hugged me, not because his Mummy told him to but because his world was that much more exciting and even bigger than before. He now has that place of his own to play and develop that was lacking in our home before. He has a new perspective on the garden, or is it the ocean or maybe the moon that he is looking out on to. Whether it is his castle, pirate ship or space rocket the playhouse has become in his mind for that particular time all I know is that I was sceptical that he would use it, but not now, I now understand the pleasure that a playhouse has given to my son and would give to any child.
Check out the range of playhouse available from www.gardenbuildingsdirect.co.uk
Follow Garden Buildings Direct on Twitter at: @GardenBuildings
Subscribe