Kids and Sticks

I was outside this evening, taking photos of my yard to send to my former neighbors in Chicago in the hopes that they would immediately put their house on the market and move to Lexington. To our street in particular. Unfortunately my backyard looks like a post-autumn apocalyptic mess so I don’t think my photos will be too convincing, but you can’t blame me for trying. They were good neighbors.

Of course, Molly was out while I was snapping away, so I said, “Hey, stand by the fence and let me take a few photos of you!”  Which to a 5-year-old immediately translates to, “Hey, pick up the closest stick you can find and hold it up in the air, whack yourself with it a few times, wave it around and then refuse to put it down.” 

What is it with kids and sticks?  Sticks are like magnets for children. If there is one close by, a child will inevitably need to hold it, swing it, poke their siblings with it, beat it on the ground or see how far they can throw it.  Why do we buy them toys?  We could just get them some stray kindling and they would be all set.

But…she is delicious anyway.  I love the fact that she wears her bedtime slippers outside. Or pretty much anywhere, and that it defeats the whole purpose of having bedtime slippers.  Or that there is always a long hair in her face no matter how short we cut her bangs, and it never bothers her.  She’s such a kid.

My kid.  Sticks and all.