Special Sandbox

I often laugh at my efforts to convince Eli something is cool. "Oh Eli!" I'll say, "You don't want to play with that truck Carson is playing with. You have THIS special Eli truck to play with!" 

That's all it takes. Call something "special" and Eli's smitten. Now let's see if you fall for the same trick. Here's Eli's special sandbox. Complete with a very special shovel.

Okay, fine. That's just a bunch of dirt and a plastic spoon, but it's very special dirt, and a very special spoon.

Call it what you want to call it -- I get the feeling we'll be spending most of our summer right here. Crouched over bugs, dirt and probably most of my kitchen utensils.

I bought Eli a bunch of sand toys in an effort to keep his dusty little fingers out of my spatula drawer. He had other plans for his sand toys. He's really trying to solidify that nickname he earned last Christmas. Also namaste?

Bucket Head snatched a ball from his friend while they were playing today. Then the great chase unfolded. Just as I was about to intervene and restore justice, I realized this was a game they were playing.

Eli would steal the ball, his friend would chase him full of fury and rage, and they'd both start giggling just as things appeared to be on the brink of violence. It occurred to me I have a lot to learn about how little boys play.

 Bucket Head returned to namaste to restore the peace.

He is handsome and hilarious. Watch out Bucket Lasses.

Ahem...so he'll have to grow out of his ever present potty (noises) mouth before the Bucket Lasses really need to watch out. Another thing I'll never understand about boys.

And look. Now he's ready to catch a ball. Because that's how people look right before they catch a ball. If you ask him.

Oh Eli. You are a hoot. My special little hoot.