A few years ago we decided to build a loft for the General in the room that he shares with the Major.  It was a project that the Boss had wanted to accomplish for a long time, and moving into a three bedroom house with five people gave her the perfect reason to build it.  The loft gave the oldest a place of his own, and effectively doubled the living space of the boys’ bedroom.   It was off-limits to the Major and the Captain unless they were specifically invited up by their older brother.

At that time, Major Havoc slept on a Little Tikes fire truck bed.  We decided to make the loft a fire station designed after the Waveland Avenue fire station  that stands on the north side of Waveland Avenue directly across from the left field bleachers at Wrigley Field in Chicago.  If you’ve ever watched a Cub pitcher serve up the long ball to an opponent and sat in awe of the majesty of a towering blast that sailed down the left field line, you’ve watched it bounce off of that fire station.  I know I have.  Too many times.   We were going to make a brick facade with open double doors and windows.  The Boss even thought of painting the wall opposite the fire station loft to look like the back side of Wrigley Field, complete with the giant green score board. To make it even more fun, we searched for a brass fire pole to install in the room.  We thought General Mayhem would have the best loft ever made if he had a real ladder to climb up to his loft and a fire pole to slide down. 

Ever try to buy a fire pole? 

We brainstormed ways to build a fire pole.  We could have installed galvanized pipe painted gold.  We could have tried a thick PVC pipe.  Neither looked like a good option.  I searched on-line and found manufacturers of genuine brass fire poles, but the prices were horrendously high.  Most manufacturers would not sell to a private citizen.  One guy told me that he was required to sell me the safety equipment, including the safety door for the floor of fire house, if he sold me the pole.   It was too much money and effort for a drop of four feet. 

Then Vita stepped into the picture. 

Vita was a co-worker at Midwest Airlines.  Vita’s dad, it turned out, managed an establishment that utilized genuine brass poles as stationary dance partners for the ladies who danced for their dollars.   She did not own one herself, but she was more than willing to provide me with catalogues from manufacturers who made and sold the brass poles.  Apparently, there is quite the industry selling brass poles to couples who install them in their bedroom. 

Who knew? 

I have to be entirely honest and say right here and now that it did not matter that the brass pole would have been used solely as a fire pole for a ten-year-old boy’s fire station loft.  I had a young daughter.  I would not have the adult entertainment industry’s equivalent of the merry-go-round’s brass ring in my house.   I just couldn’t do it. 

This all came to mind today when Captain Chaos came prancing into the room after having gone to the bathroom.  For months we’ve battled the young nudist on remaining dressed while she potties herself.  She’s in that phase where bathroom obligations can only be performed sans clothing.  Combine that necessity with a bladder the size of a snap pea and we find that every time we turn around there’s a little girl standing in front of us pointing at herself and saying, “Look!  Me, nakee girl!”  It has only been in the last few days that she decided to pick up her pants and carry them to us for our assistance in getting redressed.  When she streaks up to us, underwear in hand, she’s frequently twirling them in the air on one finger.  She did this just yesterday, running up to me with her size four Hanes spinning around an index finger, delightfully and uninhibitedly naked.  

“Look!  It’s me!  Nakee girl!” she shouted with glee. 

I looked down at her and thought to myself, “Thank God we didn’t buy the stripper pole!” 

So, we have a loft for the General.  Artistically, it isn’t anything special.  It’s a big hunk of plain wood held together by screws and lag bolts.  It holds a twin sized mattress, a book shelf, a bean bag chair and a reading light, and has room for a guest to sleep on a small mattress.  There is enough room for all of General Mayhem’s treasures.  It’s sibling proof.  And he loves it.