Dirt

Checking out the dirt

Anthony has gone down to Gramma and Papa's house for the day (and night) to spend some time with them since I have to work today and daycare is closed. Last weekend, Dad had a load of fill dirt delivered to his house to level out parts of the yard. I got a phone call a little while ago. "Did you know that little boys and dirt get along like ducks and junebugs?" I did, but it was funny anyway. Dad went on to say that Anthony had been playing in the dirt since he got there this morning and was covered from head to toe. He was only convinced to quit playing in it to come in an eat lunch. I'm sure he'll be back out there like a shot as soon as he's done eating.

He comes by this genetically. My plans for the evening actually involved picking up a bag of potting soil to finish off a flowerbed. Never mind that I have personally shoveled 3 or 4 yards of garden soil in the past couple of years. Or that I have overseen excavations of several thousand yards of dirty, nasty, stinky dirt. I love it. If I truly believed in elements, I think mine changed from water to earth. Because I am happiest when I am digging in it (the clean stuff, not the nasty stuff), smelling the smell of freshly exposed earth (again the clean stuff), and gently patting new plants into it.

It really should come as no suprise that my kid is following in my footsteps.