Little abstract structures are cropping up all over the place at the moment. My kitchen bench has combinations of margarine tubs, tupperware containers, jars of vegemite and peanut butter, spoons, bowls, saucepans. Pretty much anything that will... stack. Precariously balanced. Piled sky high.
Angus is in major construction mode at present. As if every lone object is required to be married up with another object, regardless of size, shape or compatibility for stacking. He will spend ages playing happily with his set of blocks. Planning, designing, building, knocking down, re-building. With intense concentration, he works. Our lounge room no longer resembles a place of relaxation and order. Cushions, blankets, random articles of clothing, nappies, toys, bath towels. Basically anything that is not securely fixed to the floor, becomes part of Angus' tower. With unabashed enthusiasm, each object is added to the teetering structure. When it can balance no longer, the pile comes toppling down. This is often marked by outbursts of frustration from Angus. Felix regularly bears the brunt of blame for crumbling handy work. It's a tough gig... the construction industry.
A friend who also has 2 boys, told me a story, just before Felix was born, that bears striking resemblance to the latest craze in our house. His boys would pile every cushion in the house on the floor of the lounge room and dive bomb off the lounge into them. Just last week, fresh out of the bath, Angus skimmed across one of his famous 'towers', in a daring naked leap off the lounge. As he picked himself up from the floor, he promptly announced that he was surfing. Amazing how one thing invariably leads to another. Looks like surfing might be next on the agenda. Boys will be boys.