A Love Story

Last week Mommy did a craft with me. She painted a canvas pink and then put paint all over my hands and feet. Then, you know what happened next I'm sure. I, or should I say Mommy, stamped my feet onto the pink canvas. We're going to hang it in my room soon as Mommy is finished with the other touches. Well, after I stamped my feet down, Mommy had me stand in a bowl of cold water immediately to wash the paint off my feet and boy was I happy. I do not like messy hands or feet. And then, I fell in love. This bowl full of water was just too much fun! I splashed my hands in it. I threw rocks in it. I had a blast. While Mommy was trying to return my attention to the fun painting task at hand, I became enamored by this bowl of water and could think of nothing else. When Mommy said we had to go inside, I cried. No, I WAILED. I didn't want to part with this bowl full of water. I begged and begged Mommy to let me go back outside. I said, "Mommy, ousigh, bowl." Finally, she gave in that day. And now, everyday. In the afternoons, Mommy, Grant, and I go out on our front porch (the ONLY area of shade around our house) and we play in this yellow bowl of water. I've introduced my rocks to this bowl. I dip them in and let them swim around. Then I add leaves, mud, pinestraw. Boy, it's a blast. People often wonder what we're doing on our front porch with this yellow bowl of water. We get strange glances. But I don't care. I am not ashamed of my yellow bowl of water.