My Dad has always done private contracting and when I was a kid, one particular house he built was fairly close to our own. After school, my Mom and brother and I would drive over to the work site to hang out for a bit. My very favorite thing on the site was a massive mountain of dirt that was leftover when they dug out the foundation. My brother and I would climb that mound every evening and get completely filthy, digging and burrowing through the soft, freshly dug dirt. One of those really great childhood memories.
So, when the storms from last weekend left an impromptu shallow pond in our backyard and the kids ended up in it fully-clothed, I acquiesced.
What had started out as an innocent game of throwing rocks in the water soon turned into a mud-slinging free-for-all. And all I could think about was that dirt mound as a kid--the soft, squishy mud between my toes and how absolutely glorious it felt.
Needless to say, I was thrilled that my kids were feeling the same thing.
Naomi's white tutu is now brown, but, it was worth it. Kids being kids--it doesn't get much better than that.
Have a lovely day.