The World is Mud-Luscious and Puddle Wonderful

We had an "off day" today, a day in which computers and televisions are off except for when I work. Absent of the constant barrage of super fantastic bright shiny soft cuddly cool things you can't live without advertised on T.V., Nicco played with dirt.

When we hiked in Sedona, he filled his little water bottle with soft sand along the trail. I told him that when we got home we could sift out the leaves and rocks and sticks and put his soft and pretty red sand into a jar. Since he "loves sand, you know" I thought that he might eventually add different layers of sand from different places we visit.

We took his sand outside and sifted it twice to get rid of all the chunks. He asked for some tools to move the sand from the stainless steel bowl back into his water bottle so he could pour it into the jar more easily. I found plastic spoons and little condiment cups and that was all he needed for almost two hours of fun.

He was very serious and meticulous. He wrote letters and lines in his sand, he set the little cups of sand in the sun to wait for rain so flowers could pop up (but moved them after a short wait when he realized that on our 100 degree day with no clouds that no rain would fall, nevermind the fact that there were no seeds in that dirt.) He tried to build a sand castle, but the fine sand without water didn't hold the shape of his little cups. The cups were his "little guys" which he fed spoonfuls of dirt because "They're just babies, they don't know how to eat yet."

He made me feel like a kid myself, and I remembered making mud pies with my sisters and drinking mint tea made from the stagnant water pooled in the bottom of my dad's little yellow sailboat and crushed mint leaves that grew along the side of the house. (GROSS! I can't believe I did that.) Playing in the dirt with my kid was rejuvenating. I guess that is why grown ups like gardens.