Up Norf
There’s no bucket of toys at my great aunt’s chalet up north. No cabinet of push cars, no closet of art supplies. Just a few board games yellowed with age from the 70’s, a couple decks of cards and a set of poker chips.
When we were growing up and family vacationing at the chalet us kids would find ways to entertain ourselves. We built forts by tucking extra sheets under the top bunk mattress to wall off the bottom one, we wrote “novels” in notebooks, organized our Petoskey stone collections and made elaborate potato chip/ranch dressing/deli meat sandwiches for lunch. And we played for with the poker chips.
What does a kid do with a ton of plastic chips, you ask? Who knows but we busied ourselves for hours stacking, sorting, organizing, trading and carefully putting them back into their wooden holder in colorful patterns.
This past week we were up north at the chalet again. I spent the week there with my mom and C, while more family joined on the weekends. We had some beautiful, leaves-on-fire fall weather days and we had some dreary wet and cold days too.
I packed a bucket of toys to occupy 2-year-old C in anticipation, but when we got the chalet I saw the poker chips and immediately knew what a hit they would be.
On the dreariest day, when he had already been-there-done-that with his other toys, I told him I had a surprise—and busted the chips out.
A toy like that needs no explanation. The colors! The clinking! The sheer quantity and lack of structure/rules! He stacked and collected and hid and distributed and shuffled through them to spread them across the floor. He placed them one by one carefully in the wood holder, correcting me when I didn’t do it right (or right by his standards).
The poker chips stayed out all week, and the chalet was loud with the heavy footfall, giggles and plastic clanks that came from it. Watching him play I was right back to being a kid again too.
A few times he announced “I like chalet up norf.” Buddy, I do too. I can only imagine how much more he’ll like it when he gets introduced to those potato chip/ranch sandwiches and bunk bed forts.
When we were growing up and family vacationing at the chalet us kids would find ways to entertain ourselves. We built forts by tucking extra sheets under the top bunk mattress to wall off the bottom one, we wrote “novels” in notebooks, organized our Petoskey stone collections and made elaborate potato chip/ranch dressing/deli meat sandwiches for lunch. And we played for with the poker chips.
What does a kid do with a ton of plastic chips, you ask? Who knows but we busied ourselves for hours stacking, sorting, organizing, trading and carefully putting them back into their wooden holder in colorful patterns.
This past week we were up north at the chalet again. I spent the week there with my mom and C, while more family joined on the weekends. We had some beautiful, leaves-on-fire fall weather days and we had some dreary wet and cold days too.
I packed a bucket of toys to occupy 2-year-old C in anticipation, but when we got the chalet I saw the poker chips and immediately knew what a hit they would be.
On the dreariest day, when he had already been-there-done-that with his other toys, I told him I had a surprise—and busted the chips out.
A toy like that needs no explanation. The colors! The clinking! The sheer quantity and lack of structure/rules! He stacked and collected and hid and distributed and shuffled through them to spread them across the floor. He placed them one by one carefully in the wood holder, correcting me when I didn’t do it right (or right by his standards).
The poker chips stayed out all week, and the chalet was loud with the heavy footfall, giggles and plastic clanks that came from it. Watching him play I was right back to being a kid again too.
A few times he announced “I like chalet up norf.” Buddy, I do too. I can only imagine how much more he’ll like it when he gets introduced to those potato chip/ranch sandwiches and bunk bed forts.