Daddy: Destroyer of homes

This weekend, D- took his Lincoln Logs out to the dining room to build himself a house safely beyond the reach of pudgy little hands. Left completely to his own devices, I think he built a pretty impressive little shack (folks back in Maine might call it a 'camp house'):

When I saw it, I told him how great I thought it was, then I told him it was nap time. He asked if he could keep the house together so he could show it to Momma when she got home, and I of course agreed.

After nap time, he walked out into the room, saw the house, and said, with surprise and awe befitting the son of an unrepentant, vindictive, pathologically lying demolisher of childhood hopes and dreams, "You didn't wreck it!!"

I have no idea why he said this, much less why he said it with such unexpected joy, but I couldn't help feeling defensive. I just said "Of course I didn't-- I said we could save it for Momma, silly."

He just smiled with wizened amazement, wondering which of his slave duties was performed well enough to warrant such a magnanimous gesture from the tyrannical taskmaster he is unlucky enough to have to call Father.