Growing up with my Dad was an interesting thing. He used to ride Bulls in rodeos. Even did it at Madison Square Garden. When he wasn't doing that he was on a roof in redonkeylous heat, or facing down an aligator while he was drunk duck hunting. In other words, Dad is tough. More tough than I'll ever be. Dude falls off the roof, dislocates his hip, pops it back in, and goes back to work. He's managed to drill a nail in his hand, and fixed it with electrical tape.
So, needless to say, I had a hard time not being tough as a child. Say if I were crawling through a barbed wire fence, and it got caught in my back, and I freaked out a little bit, I wouldn't get "Are you O.K?" I got "Quit being a girl, its only barbed wire." When dad and I were on horse back, tearing through the woods, and he manages to successfully duck a low lying tree, and i can't in time, due to the speed of my horse chasing his, and my face eats it, I didn't get "Are you O.K.?" I got "You had better get that horse back." As the blow from the tree had knocked me completely off the saddle, and onto the ground.
When I asked my Dad over and over again for a tree house, he finally built me one. Well, he used wood, and it was a tree...but house it wasn't. Houses tend to have walls, and a roof. What I got amounted to broken two by fours to climb, and up top, was a piece of ply wood situated in between the two main parts of the tree. Dad not being that great of an engineer managed to build my tree plank in such a way, that when I got to the top, I almost had to dangle myself off the damned thing to get up there. This was when I was 7-8 mind you.
Now, I can understand not wanting to do the walls, and roof. As those would take time and money. We had plenty of one, but not the other. I'll let you figure out which one. But a railing around to keep me from falling 30 feet would have been nice. But beggars can't be choosers. So I got my tree house. Sort of. It should be as no surprise that not only did I fall out of the tree, I managed to hit the tree on the way down. It should also be noted that I screamed a little on the way down.
My mother came running out of the house "WHAT, WHAT'S WRONG?!"
I said cryingly "I FELL OUT OF MY TREE....HOUSE."
She said "Is that all, God with the way you were screaming I thought you got attacked by a bear." So, you see...its not all dad. Mom had some digs in there too.
The next time, I'll tell you why no matter what, never ever climb on a horse unless you have at least a rope around its neck.