Earlier this summer, there was a street fair on St. Laurent. There was an inflatable bouncy castle. Sonya was hooked. To recreate the same thrill at home, Sonya takes all the cushions off the living room sofa and bounces on it like a trampoline. Then she leaps off the couch into the cushion pile.

Instead of remaking the sofa over and over again during the day, I just leave it.

For a new visitor to our home, it probably looks like a disaster, but I actually kind of like it. The evening cleaning-up process seems that much more satisfying. It actually only takes a few minutes to restore order… because frankly, our standards of order aren’t too stringent in this house.

On their own, the girls have started to clean up the couch after they’re done bouncing— to be helpful. “It’s like a puzzle!” Sonya said.

It’s hard to be mad at these two when they’re playing together, giggling like mad, and leaving me alone to knit, read, or write. “How about you go do something?” Sonya offers. “We call you for snack time.” (This is a ploy for her to take death-defying, cringe-worthy leaps that I might otherwise talk her out of doing).

Amazingly, no one has been seriously hurt, and our resilient broken-in hand-me-down couch is no worse for the wear. YET, anyway.