Once upon a time, I used to have floors. I swear they're still there. I swear we uncover them completely, once, twice - sometimes thrice - daily. I suppose it's what happens when you have two boys who like to build and thoroughly enjoy one another's company.
Every once in a while they stop from their building. You know, to do school work, to talk to Eve while I'm getting us ready to leave for somewhere, to read for an hour, and occasionally to "play" with their sister while I'm making something for them/us to eat...
But whatever it is eventually ceases, and they can return to their all important task of
covering every square inch of floor... er, I mean, their task of building and playing, which is one of the many things small boys should get to enjoy doing.
Besides. I can have floors when I'm fifty, right?