Secret Base

The trampoline is where we hold our meetings, except it’s not a trampoline, it’s the clubhouse, it’s our secret base. It’s where we talk about how Mom is extra grumpy today because little Patrick had to put pennies in the VCR and Dad didn’t fix the faucet and instead he fell asleep watching the Gators play football. It’s where we plan our next hunt for the ingredients we need for the growth potion so we can help the new peach tree that Dad just planted grow because if there’s an apocalypse then we need to have our food and not even have to leave the farmhouse ever. It’s the observatory where we can take our blankets and Nathan’s Harry Potter quilt and our pillows and that giant sleeping bag that Aunt Jessie gave us and we can look up at the sky and fall asleep until Uncle Bill yells at us to get in the house because it’s too cold. It’s our tent where we can put blankets over the top and we can stay out here all night listening for a Bigfoot because I put peanut butter on the tree because sasquatches love peanut butter. It’s the jailhouse where if you get out in tag or hide-and-seek or cops-and-robbers you have to go, but you can’t cheat and bounce around because it’s jail and jail isn’t fun, and also you can’t just say you’re not playing anymore just because you got out. It’s where the ghosts we’re looking for can’t even get you because the net around the trampoline is a force field. It’s where we jump as high as we can and play Popcorn and Wild Bull and Dead Man, but you can’t pull on the net because if it comes down Mom says we can’t jump anymore.