Sands of Time

Monday, March 8, 2010

I've never understood the appeal of sand. Maybe it's because I was deprived as a child and never had a sandbox. Oh wait, I did. It was the beach. And I hated the sand. It was always everywhere and stuck to everything.
When we put the sandbox in last year for Duke, it was with a little misgiving. Mostly in the form of "how am I going to keep this out of the house?” But, it's provided many hours of entertainment for Darrell and Duke. Who knew that a sandbox was a suitable substitute for snow? They've made sand sharks, sand balls, sand castles, and had the usual dump truck traffic. During the summer, we just jump in the pool or spray off with a hose. So, most of my fears have been unfounded.
At preschool they have a sandbox on the playground. Every now and then, Duke must get a little overzealous with it. Now, I only have his word to go by and as our pediatrician says, at this age it kind of seems like they're always hallucinating. But, here's the sitch according to Duke:
A few weeks ago he came home and when we took his sneakers off, they were FULL of sand. Later, I changed his diaper. Also full of sand. And his ears: full of sand. I asked him what he did in the sandbox. "I was making Snow Angels".
A week or two later: more sand in the hair. "I was making pretend cookies in the sandbox with Abi and Ryan." And he proceeded to tell me about adding the flour, butter, sugar, etc. (though for some reason he thinks we use milk to make cookies).
*I should probably take responsibility for this one since we had been making “real" cookies at home the day before this incident.
And this morning? Again, the shoes full of sand. And the answer to “what were you doing in the sandbox today?”

"I was rolling around like a pig."

UPDATE:
Today, I could see the sand on him from across the parking lot.  On his face.  Coating the top and back of his hair.  Pools of it in his ears.  What were you doing in the sandbox today?
"Swimming like a fish."