dirt baby
You know how some babies just hate the feeling of grass on their bare legs? Not mine. She loves it.
I just spread a blanket out in the lawn under the side maple, where the grass is sparse in the late summer weather. There are rocks and twigs and dry leaves, so I thought a blanket would be somewhat appealing. I hauled out toys and plopped little Annie down in the middle of it.
It lasted for about, oh, two seconds.
She crawled off and into the grass. Crunched leaves and waved sticks. And now she's digging a hole in the mulch, happy as a lark.
The toys sit untouched as usual.
Fischer Price should figure out how to market a stick toy or capture the texture of crunching leaves.
Until they do, the real thing will work just fine. Probably even better.
I just spread a blanket out in the lawn under the side maple, where the grass is sparse in the late summer weather. There are rocks and twigs and dry leaves, so I thought a blanket would be somewhat appealing. I hauled out toys and plopped little Annie down in the middle of it.
It lasted for about, oh, two seconds.
She crawled off and into the grass. Crunched leaves and waved sticks. And now she's digging a hole in the mulch, happy as a lark.
The toys sit untouched as usual.
Fischer Price should figure out how to market a stick toy or capture the texture of crunching leaves.
Until they do, the real thing will work just fine. Probably even better.
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