When we were at the beach with the gang a few weeksago Liz bought the kids these cool shovels.
They loved, loved using them on the beach.
A few days after we got home I was cleaning the kitchen
(I might have been enjoying blogging and
checking craigslist uninterrupted, also)
Will was playing in the playroom.
He was quiet (i know, I know) but I kept peeking in
on him and he appeared to be sweetly entertaining himself.
Only a crazy person would interrupt that.
I caught him once standing at the toy bin with his shovel in hand
and another time next to his easel (next to the back door).
I didn't think anything of it until I went out to BBQ
the next night and this is what I found...
He had shoveled every single toy he owned out the cat door.
Including the pens and chalk that I thought he was
nicely coloring with at his easel.
Maybe I don't love that shovel so much.
Then today he started "cleaning" his playroom with the shovel.
He thought it was especially useful putting his legos into their box.
He kept saying "just yike fed...(just like Fred)"
as he was cleaning.
I couldn't figure out what he was talking about until he
explained further (talking quietly to himself)...
"just yike Fed cleanin' up da schnoods..."
"just yike Fed cleanin' up da schnood's poop to hit da chubs"
Ah ha...he demands that Fred clean up the schnoodle's poop
everytime he's over there so he can hit his golf clubs and
Fred scoops the poop with a shovel.
Their little interpretations about life are so entertaining.
The shovel is back in.
(I was feeling like I've told this story before and
Weird subject to keep talking about.)
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