To The Blanket Fort! STAT!

“Never mock the magic that lies within a blanket fort’s cozy walls.”

—Author unknown, quoted by Meredith Sinclair in “Well Played.”

Another week, another nor’easter? Seems that way. Last week I was tucked into the Barnacle, which is a little more exciting than a blanket fort, especially in a storm. Since then, however, the weather gods, together with some ordinary stress, and a few steaming loads that hit the fan, have all conspired to have me searching for refuge. A weekly nor’easter? OK, I like the waves as much as the next idiot, but we can be done now, thank you very much. March comes in like a lion, right? OK, well about now, someone needs to “tranq that beast” because I’m over it. March is also supposed to go out like a lamb, and it might, but at this point, I’m ready to get out the mint jelly and serve up Mary’s little friend with fries and a double Jameson, neat.

As it happens, a good friend of mine called because he too was having a bad day. This guy is fast becoming one of my favorite people. He’s a dad, a great cook, has an exciting job that takes him all over the world and everyone he knows drools over the pictures of all of his adventures. He’s kinder than most people realize, and tougher than nails, in the best way possible. This day though, he was having a tough time. I get that because the weather hasn’t been the only thing that’s a mess in my world. It will all pass, of course, as these things do, but he had the best idea ever: A blanket fort.

Remember blanket forts? Aren’t they the best? A couple of dining room chairs, some covers and boom, you have your own little hideaway. I used to put a sign up on the ones I made, “Out to lunch.” Even then, if I couldn’t have a snack while doing it, I didn’t do it. Blanket forts are inviolate. It’s an international symbol that someone needs a break, and sometimes the only way to get it is to circle the furniture and deploy the quilts and pillows. I told Mr. M that’s what he should do. He had plans with people, and it’s good to have friends, but sometimes, you just have to pull the covers over your head and tell the world to keep the hell out.

What about sink or swim though? What about hanging in there and taking on the world? What about standing up, in some killer red shoes, taking names and kicking butt? Sure, there’s time for that, in some situations. Not always though. There are days, and we have all had them, when not one more thing can be done. Not one more call, not one more email, not one more conversation. Flip your sign to “closed” grab a book and a beverage and set yourself up in a blanket fort of your own. If you don’t want to bother messing up your living room, sure, it can be metaphorical, but I promise you won’t get the full effect if you don’t literally get a blanket and throw it over some chairs. It’s like an emotional lifeboat — only you don’t have to divvy up the freshwater and supplies.

With little kids, there is the concept of a “time out,” and it’s usually punitive. When my kids were wee babes, there was only so much rebellion I could take before I sent them off to the bottom of the hallway stairs, to “think about what you did.” My guess is they mostly thought up elaborate plots to run away to the circus. One of my kids even told me, “When I’m a grown-up, I’m going to let my kids have anything they want so that they will like me, since YOU DON’T!”

Oh, the humanity. That same child is now declaring his intention to never have kids, and I am, for now, in full agreement. Sometimes I miss the little kid days. Not as a parent, as a child. Bike rides and baseball games, a yard full of friends and when it was all too much? Oreos and a blanket fort. How has corporate America not embraced the blanket fort? Workplaces now have perks like free sodas, snacks, communal work areas with sofas and chairs, and even emotional support animals, but I’ve yet to see a blanket fort anywhere.

There is something about the oasis of chairs and bedding that says, “Come on in. It’s quiet here, no one is going to tell you what to do, or who to be.” If that isn’t a lifeboat of sorts, then I don’t know what is. There will always be time to hit it hard. Taking a break isn’t giving up, it’s giving in to a welcome bit of comfort that is so often in short supply. Get your pillows and cozy up, the rest of the world will still be there when you’re done.