My kids play in a sand pit.
We moved about a year ago and our new back yard doesn’t have any of the outdoor play equipment we had at our old house. No swings. No inflatable pool in the summer. No fire pit. No fort. Not even a fence! (Yet.)
We’d been in the new house approximately 17 minutes when the kids discovered that beneath a layer of pine straw in our backyard was...SAND. Soft and glorious and easy to dig into sand.
Thank you, Florida Panhandle.
Without a swing set or other outdoorweapons toys to play with- they went Classic Childhood and dug a hole. And dug. And dug. AND DUG. Y’all I’m here to tell you that no other three children IN THE HISTORY OF TIME have loved a sand pit more than mine. It’s a beautiful relationship.
Except for one thing: SAND.
Have you ever faced three dirt-and-sand-encrusted children knocking at your back door at 9:17am, wanting to come back inside to play after a glorious half hour of Hole Digging? I’ll tell you- it’s gross. There is sand in hair and ears and toes and shorts pockets. No matter how much they shake off their bodies, sand is going to leave a trail from the back door, through the living room, down the hallway and into the bathroom where it will be ground into your brand new bath rugs and crusted along the bottom of your freshly cleaned shower.
It’s maddening.
It drives you SO CRAZY that the next day, when your fresh faced cherub children ask if they can go outside for another expedition of Hold Digging, YOU TELL THEM NO. The thought of having another trail of Hold Digging Evidence to clean makes your eye twitch and you can’t summon the strength to face another gritty, grimy apocalypse.
BUT THEN, three hours later when the volume level in your house rises and you’re eye is twitching for an entirely different reason- YOU TURN THEM LOSE. Watching them holler and howl with reckless abandon OUTSIDE WHERE JESUS LOVES THEM you break out the vacuum, shake out the bathroom rugs and get ready to hose them off on the back porch.
‘Cause God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt.
We moved about a year ago and our new back yard doesn’t have any of the outdoor play equipment we had at our old house. No swings. No inflatable pool in the summer. No fire pit. No fort. Not even a fence! (Yet.)
We’d been in the new house approximately 17 minutes when the kids discovered that beneath a layer of pine straw in our backyard was...SAND. Soft and glorious and easy to dig into sand.
Thank you, Florida Panhandle.
Without a swing set or other outdoor
Except for one thing: SAND.
Have you ever faced three dirt-and-sand-encrusted children knocking at your back door at 9:17am, wanting to come back inside to play after a glorious half hour of Hole Digging? I’ll tell you- it’s gross. There is sand in hair and ears and toes and shorts pockets. No matter how much they shake off their bodies, sand is going to leave a trail from the back door, through the living room, down the hallway and into the bathroom where it will be ground into your brand new bath rugs and crusted along the bottom of your freshly cleaned shower.
It’s maddening.
It drives you SO CRAZY that the next day, when your fresh faced cherub children ask if they can go outside for another expedition of Hold Digging, YOU TELL THEM NO. The thought of having another trail of Hold Digging Evidence to clean makes your eye twitch and you can’t summon the strength to face another gritty, grimy apocalypse.
BUT THEN, three hours later when the volume level in your house rises and you’re eye is twitching for an entirely different reason- YOU TURN THEM LOSE. Watching them holler and howl with reckless abandon OUTSIDE WHERE JESUS LOVES THEM you break out the vacuum, shake out the bathroom rugs and get ready to hose them off on the back porch.
‘Cause God made dirt and dirt don’t hurt.
Thanks for stopping by, Katie.
