Never too old for the Sandbox

Last night my daughter, Emmy, asked me to come outside and play with her.  My first thought was that I was overly tired, still had to clean up from dinner and had to pick up my son in a few hours.  I didn’t want to go outside.  I wanted a clean house.  But then I thought of the pledge I made myself last year.  We spent so much time with my mother before she passed away, that we really didn’t get to enjoy the leisure of summer.  There was no going to the pool, no chasing fireflies, no going for snow cones.  I vowed that this summer would be different.  So with that pledge, I went outside.  I found her in the sandbox.  I have no real creativity in the make believe department, so I was a little apprehensive about what would happen over the next couple of hours.  My daughter, who is eleven, has always loved playing in the sandbox.  I think it is therapy for her to manipulate the sand, make things, just dig around.  I am beginning to think I can learn a lot from her.  At first we tried to make sand castles.  The sand was not moist enough so our cups never really did set up well.  She did not see this as a problem.  The broken parts became walls around a moat, fallen mountain sides, or anything else she could think of.  What I saw as not working, she saw the beauty of the situation. 

 

Then we moved on to opening a restaurant.  We went in to the house and took all the old plastic containers, spoons, spatulas, more cups out to the sandbox.  Much laughing ensued when she started putting stuff in different containers.  “This one is eggs, it goes in the refrigerator”, “this one is sugar it goes on the shelf”.  By the time she had finished getting ready we had about twelve tubs full of sand.  Thankfully I was able to remember that the “eggs” were in the margarine container on the ledge and the “sugar” was in a glad container behind me.  She was a mean cook and made every meal perfectly.  Then as I “ate” it I would dump sand on her and she would laugh so hard she would get hiccups.  Charlie, our little dog, decided to get in to the action.  He hated the feel of sand on his feet so he hopped in to my lap and stayed.  Boomer, my German Shepherd mix, would poke his head in on occasion, but was more interested in chasing birds and lying under a tree.  After Charlie got settled, Emmy asked him what he would like.  We decided he would like dog chow with a side of bow wow.  He was a good sport and stayed until his “food” was ready.  That may have had something to do with the fact I was petting him, though. 

Too soon, the sun began to set and the mosquitos started coming out.  We had to go in.  Together we gathered up all our stuff, dumped out the sand and took it to the kitchen.  As I was putting stuff in the dishwasher she gave me a big hug and said in her best proper voice, “Thank you Mrs. Williams for coming to my restaurant and bringing your friend”. 

 

No, Em, thank you for reminding me of the precious gift of being able to spend Mom/girl time.  Not just another day in my sometimes exciting, sometimes dull, always interesting life.