What does Spouse do when it dumps (a whole lot - and for those of you in the notso know, "dump" is a verb that means "snow") and it's Saturday and he wants to try a -20F sleeping bag? He builds "Tramp Cave." The construction took only 5 hours and 1800 milligrams of ibuprofin.
After the fortress was complete, he stomped in the kitchen (wet from sweat and wet from snow) announcing triumphantly "This is my version of Combat Cleaning."
For those of you in the notso know (again? You should really come around more often), Combat Cleaning is what Spouse calls it when it's late and I should have been in bed long ago, but there's just this one thing that needs to be picked up, and OH! what about that? I cannot go to bed without THAT being cleaned and OH! I forgot to do this. The frantic scramble goes on and on. All of the ittty bitty messes about the house have joined forces, draped in armor, and are ready to take over. I MUST FIGHT BACK!
When am I going to learn that the messes always win? Oh well.
Nice fort huh? Spouse and Yahoo #1 spent the night there. It was 18 degrees (F) when they entered and 22 degrees (F) when they came out at 8:00am the next day - only to retrieve a game and go back.