Sunday

I'm writing this on Saturday.  I won't have time on Sunday.  That isn't a day I write, though I will link to the post on Two Writing Teachers for the Slice of Life Challenge for Day 16!  Now we ARE officially half way through the month.

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Wow!  He looks like a young boy, not a toddler!

Yesterday, my grandson and I went outside.  It was a beautiful day - about 65 degrees out.  With light jackets on, we wandered the backyard.  There are some old cars out there from a previous owner.  They will get towed away soon, but right now they are a fascinating play area for a 2½ year old boy.  His body just naturally turned to direct his feet that way.

"Come over here and see all these sticks," I enticed him.  Sticks are the next best thing to cars when you are a young boy.  His head turned and his feet followed.

"Let's make a pile of sticks," I told him.
"Okay, Nannie," he said.

And so for about a half an hour we happily gathered up sticks.  He especially enjoyed getting the big, big sticks.  Then in the middle of it all, I heard, "Uh-oh.  Potty.  Help."  And he was headed towards the house.  We got in there in time, and he was delighted with himself.  I was impressed - he knew he had to go; he was doing something fun and stopped; he had a ways to go to get to the house; then more to do when he got there - up the steps, in the door, to the bathroom, get the stool in place to step up, get the potty seat on the toilet seat and finally go potty.  Phew.  I had been tempted to just picked him up and carry him to get to the house more quickly, but decided against it.  Didn't want that to be a habit he acquired while I was on duty!

We went back outside then, to pick up some more sticks.  He paused when he saw the rail fence at the edge of the lawn.  He went over to it.  I was watching and warned him not to go on the other side.  But he didn't.
He stopped at the fence and called over it, "Cows! Come here cows!  Where are the cows?"
"There are no cows at this house," I told him.  Their old house was on a farm with fences and cows. This is their new house.

Some Canada Geese flew overhead just then, honking all the way.
"There go the geese!" I said, pointing.
"Bye, ducks!" he called to them, waving.
"Those are geese," I told him.  "Honk! Honk!" I imitated the geese as best I could.
"Geese," he repeated.

We returned to piling sticks for a little while longer.  Then we went inside for lunch and a bath before nap.  Picking up sticks can make you hungry, get you dirty and wear you out!

Perhaps today will be the day he remembers the word "geese".
He hasn't walked on the sofa again...yet.