Even knowing she’d left her husband and Helena home unsupervised, the scene that greeted Alison when she stepped through the front door was surprising. The living room was gone, swallowed under a sea of blankets.
“Are you kidding me?!” she cried out, panicked. “I was gone for less than an hour!”
She heard the sound of someone scuttering across the floor, then saw her husband’s head poke out from the blanket nearest her feet.
“Oh, hey, hon!” he exclaimed. “We’re building a blanket fort.”
She shook her head frantically, her face tightening as she waited for any further explanation.
“It will be fun for little Oscar and Gemma,” came another voice from deeper into the room, somewhere by Alison’s great aunt’s quilt. Helena’s head squeezed out from between two blankets, a sheepish grin on her face.
“Don’t you think they’re a little old for that?” she asked, glaring down at her husband.
Donnie popped his head up, turning to share a confused look with Helena.
“No?” Helena said.
“You should see what we made though, honey!” Donnie said excitedly. “We went for kind of a postmodern vibe. Kinda funky, like that house we checked out in Pickering.”
Alison breathed in deep, folding her arms over her chest.
“Oh, and there are snacks!” he continued, desperate.
“Mm,” Helena concurred, pulling a handful of Goldfish crackers out from somewhere beneath her. One by one, she began tossing them in the general direction of Donnie’s open mouth, the two of them giggling like schoolchildren as a small pile began to form at Alison’s feet.
“Alright!” Alison cried, throwing a hand up. The other two froze, one final cracker bouncing unceremoniously off of Donnie’s forehead. “I’ll take a look inside. Just… please stop throwing food in the house.”
Donnie and Helena flashed each other excited grins before ducking back into the fort. With a sigh, Alison dropped to her hands and knees and pulled the nearest blanket up over her head.