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Buried Feet and Sandcastles

April 14, 2011

I was sitting on the patio enjoying a beer and relaxing after a long day.  Mason came over, grabbed my hand, and tugged towards his sand box.  While Steve and Becky listened to music and waited for the pork chops to finish cooking I followed Mason.

He tossed off the top of his turtle sandbox and sat on the edge.  I sat next to the sandbox and waited for further instructions.  He leaned back and wiggled his feet in the air. 

“Do you want me to bury your feet in the sand?”

“Ya!”

I made two little indentations in the sand, plopped his feet in them and covered them with sand.  He beamed and then started to wiggle his toes.  The sand began to crack and in a moment out popped his two feet.  He laughed and waved them at me again. 

This lasted for about 10 minutes.  I’d bury his feet, he’d wiggle them out and then we’d do it all over again.  Eventually he tired of this game and exclaimed “sandcastle!” He watched me as I shoveled sand into a small bucket, made a smooth spot and then flipped it over.  Mason took in my work for a few second before whacking the sandcastle with his hands and crumbling it to pieces. 

It was fun playing with my little boy and the pork chops were done a few minutes later. We made our way to the table with a few mosquito bites and sand all over our clothes. 

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