Sand

sandpit-6

There is probably very little that I find more unpleasant than sand everywhere. I hate the feel of it under my feet inside the house and I can become almost crazy with it if it’s through my bed.

So it was with a good dose of anxiety that I agreed that a sandpit in the garden would be a really nice addition for the boys.

The middle child has always had a love affair with sandpits. Every time I collected him from his day care in the past he would have spent a large portion of his day in the sandpit and he would have the sandy socks and pockets full of sand to prove it. You had to be very careful where you undressed him before his bath because you would have a makeshift beach where you stood.

As I uneasily anticipated my house at the moment is a veritable indoor sandpit. There really is sand everywhere. Everywhere.

My son has decided that since sand in the sandpit is fabulous having bucketfuls of sandpit all around the backyard must just be the utopian ideal of modern day sandpit-age. And so he has made it his outdoors work to redistribute the sandpit sand all over the courtyard. Which means that even if nobody sets foot in the actual sandpit there is so much sand lying around that merely walking down the stairs ensures that you get enough sand stuck to the bottoms of your feet and shoes so when you re-enter the house you make all of my sandy nightmares come true.

As an aside; nobody setting foot in the sandpit is not really a thing. It’s a fantasy created by a mother who would really rather not have agreed to the sandpit that makes young children dance with delight whilst raining sand on all available surfaces and unsuspecting passers by.

I try dusting them off and having a mat for them to wipe their feet on as they come back in the house. It’s useless.

If at any time you randomly chose one of the children and roll them over where they are sitting you will discover a small puddle of sand where their bottom was. It seeps out of their pores and probably their pockets. They store whole truckloads of it between their toes and deposit it into their socks so when you later try and shake the socks out to pop them in the wash you are rewarded with a sandy shower.

We are moving soon and I am going to have to have a long hard think about whether I remember to pack the sandpit.

*Image from http://www.timberclick.com/index.php/london/railway-sleeper-sandpit/

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