I love it when the boys go on an expedition. They fastidiously pack their backpacks with snacks and drinks, hopeful that healthy snacks will allow them to take a treat or two, as well. They hunt for belts so they can walk with their swords, they grab jackets in case it is cold or wet, they often take books to read or notebooks to write in, and then complain when they can’t think of other important items to weigh them down on their journey. They encourage or discourage each other about bringing toys along for the adventure.
Once outside, they rediscover things forgotten and left outside for days or weeks, and pretend to hack stuff along the way to wherever they are going.
I like when they are gone for longer than ten minutes, which doesn’t happen often because they really wish I was going with them. I love that they want me with them, but as I’ve often said to them, kids can’t always have proper adventures when they are with their parents. I don’t recall any parents being involved when people were flying around on the wishing chair. I might have to read them some Enid Blyton books so they get the idea. Maybe 7yo will be ready ro read some of them himself, soon. In the mean time, I’m keeping myself busy by the fire.