Tree House Timber

‘You’re really doing this, huh?’ my wife sighed as I stepped out onto the patio in my workman’s outfit.

‘Of course!’ I grinned, sliding the sunglasses onto my face. ‘I made a promise didn’t I?’

‘They’re not even going to be able to use a treehouse for, like, a decade,’ she grunted, cradling her heavily-pregnant belly. ‘You’ll have to basically rebuild it by the time they’re ready.’

‘You don’t think my handiwork can survive a decade?’ I asked her, shaking my head in mock pain. ‘I’m wounded.’

‘Not yet, you’re not,’ she mumbled. ‘Look, just because you found a hardware store near Hampton doesn’t mean you’re ready to build anything.’

‘They had a class,’ I pouted.

‘On?’ she raised an eyebrow. ‘Treehouse building?’

I met her gaze for as long as I could, then relented with a sigh. ‘Making birdhouses,’ I admitted.

‘What? Really?’ she perked up. ‘We have a birdhouse?’

‘I failed at building the birdhouse,’ I sighed again. ‘It fell apart.’

She looked at me for a moment, then burst out laughing. I frowned.

‘It was a tricky design!’

‘Trickier than a full-sized treehouse?!’ she cackled, clearly trying not to wet herself. ‘You’re unbelievable. No way am I letting you climb that stupid tree!’

‘But… but I have all of this high quality Cheltenham timber,’ I limply gestured at the huge pile of wood on the back lawn. ‘What am I supposed to do with that?’

‘Put it in the shed?’ she shrugged.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I crossed my arms, pouting again. ‘It won’t last ten years in the shed. They’ll get damaged for sure.’

‘Oh?’ she said, blinking up at me innocently. She leaned back in her chair and surveyed me pointedly. ‘You don’t think they’ll last? Interesting.’

‘Oh come on,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘It’s completely different to if I—’

‘Staple them to a tree first?’

‘Hey,’ I frowned. ‘We both know I was going to use nails.’

‘Honestly, honey,’ she said, standing up and patting me on the arm. ‘I was half-expecting you to use string.’

Laughing to herself, she waddled back inside.