BlogFriday: dirty February 29, 2008

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I have sons. Four of them. Everyone knows what little boys like to do, and that’s get dirty.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a son come in with dirty, filthy clothes because he decided that he and his friends were going to “explore”. More often than not, that exporing was in some place I wouldn’t go into on a dare.

One time, it was under a porch. Another, a drainage ditch on a mission to find fireflies. Still another was what I’d call a swamp on the base where we lived in the mid 80’s, and Daniel was the youngest kid out there getting dirty. He was four at the time, and all his friends were 6 and 7 year olds.

No wonder the kid thought he could go to school as soon as he turned 5 (in December of 1988).

I’ve had more free standing clothing in my laundry room than I care to remember right now. And man, did it stink!

“Um, (insert son’s name here), where did you go to get so dirty?”

“Oh, just the (insert dusty, dirty, stinky or wet location here).”

Cue their mom (me) rolling her eyes.

That’s all from where I sit.

–MorelaterZ–