At the preschool where I used to work, there is an annual event called "Pig Week". There are several pig-related activities throughout the week, but the main thing is that it is an entire week to play in the biggest, wettest mud puddle mankind can produce. It is among the things that I miss most about not working there, and I couldn't resist stopping by and letting Max get his first taste of mudpie.
The kids were all very interested in Max, and are fascinated by the fact that what used to be only a lump in my tummy is now a living, breathing creature. They were very hospitable, and kept bringing Max shovels and 'helping' him dig.
I love how the little girl to Max's right is wearing her fancy fairy-princess dress in the mud. I also love how Max has about fourteen sand toys surrounding him, and looks deeply bewildered as to their origin or purpose.
Max was mostly interested in the kids and their crazy activity at first, but it did finally occur to him that he was sitting in a wetter, slimier substance than usual.
He got really into the mud play for awhile, and did his mama proud. (When I worked there, I was always the teacher most likely to dive directly into the mud with the kids. Ian has a much lower tolerance for slime, which is why I end up doing most of the diapers. I was interested to see which of our sensory systems Max would inherit. So far, it seems like mine has won the genetic coin toss.)
Eventually, of course, touching the mud was not enough, and Max helped himself to a taste.
I'm not sure what he was expecting it to taste like, but apparently he was unpleasantly surprised. He decided that he needed to nurse for awhile after this, to wash the grit down and to recover from the excitement. The preschoolers found his nursing endlessly entertaining, and it paved the road for a lot of those beautifully awkward questions that only young children can ask. Good times!
At the preschool where I used to work, there is an annual event called "Pig Week". There are several pig-related activities throughout the week, but the main thing is that it is an entire week to play in the biggest, wettest mud puddle mankind can produce. It is among the things that I miss most about not working there, and I couldn't resist stopping by and letting Max get his first taste of mudpie.
The kids were all very interested in Max, and are fascinated by the fact that what used to be only a lump in my tummy is now a living, breathing creature. They were very hospitable, and kept bringing Max shovels and 'helping' him dig.
I love how the little girl to Max's right is wearing her fancy fairy-princess dress in the mud. I also love how Max has about fourteen sand toys surrounding him, and looks deeply bewildered as to their origin or purpose.
Max was mostly interested in the kids and their crazy activity at first, but it did finally occur to him that he was sitting in a wetter, slimier substance than usual.
He got really into the mud play for awhile, and did his mama proud. (When I worked there, I was always the teacher most likely to dive directly into the mud with the kids. Ian has a much lower tolerance for slime, which is why I end up doing most of the diapers. I was interested to see which of our sensory systems Max would inherit. So far, it seems like mine has won the genetic coin toss.)
Eventually, of course, touching the mud was not enough, and Max helped himself to a taste.
I'm not sure what he was expecting it to taste like, but apparently he was unpleasantly surprised. He decided that he needed to nurse for awhile after this, to wash the grit down and to recover from the excitement. The preschoolers found his nursing endlessly entertaining, and it paved the road for a lot of those beautifully awkward questions that only young children can ask. Good times!
4 comments:
Clearly, yours was a day packed with cuteness. I have to say, we have made one heck of a photogenic son. Also, you are (as usual) brilliant and hilarious.
dude that IS fun times
Even covered in mud Max's cuteness shines through. I see a deep appreciation for silk worms in his future.
I said that my sensory system had won the genetic coin toss, Granny, not yours. My sensory system disapproves of silk worms.
Post a Comment