Me to Hubby: I'm going outside to play in the mud.
Him: Oh. Um isn't it too cold?
Me: Sort of, but the puddle is getting smaller in the driveway.
Him: Isn't it mostly mud?
Me: Yes. I am going to play in the mud.
Him: Ok. Well I knew you weren't ever going to grow up.
My driveway has a low spot that needs to be fixed. In the spring it is like a small pond at first. It holds water at every rain and at every snow melt. In the evening the light is just right for some play time.
Yep, I was that kid that played with my cousins and made mud pies.
I grew up in a time when dirt was okay to play with. We could use it as a compliment to our little plastic soldiers or move it with one of the Tonka trucks we had. We could toss it, wet it, mold it, shape it.
I put my coveralls on. It was cold outside, but I had a plan and a story line running in my head.
The Misadventures of Frank and His Troopers.