After a record-breaking heat wave, we were blessed with rain. Lots and lots of rains. During those wet days we forgot to put the cover on the sandbox and now we have a veritable swampbox. I've managed to keep the boys out of it for almost two weeks. There's the obvious danger of them drowning in it. But then there's the stench, the gnats, and of course, the mess! Last night my success in keeping them away from the tempting quagmire ended with a splash.
Or rather the adventure known as SAND began. First there was the initial dive in. I believe it took little Mason by surprise. Surprise quickly turned to mischievous mirth and merriment as he and Cooper started slinging swamp patties at the tomato plant. Pretty soon they got cold -- and perhaps sicked out by the smell -- and started running around the driveway. Mason's soggy bottom inhibited his ability to run and he had a Lolo Jones moment on the driveway. This is when I declared an end to the exuberant escapades in the sand and moved everyone inside for baths.
My little swamp monsters left me quite a mess to hose down (I'm still working on the laundry).