Monday, January 19, 2009
On a snowy day, there's nothing my boys like better than bundling up, plunging out in the fluff and hauling ass down the back hill on their snow tubes. Well, that's what they usually like to do. However, after Rob filled Max's head with scouting ideas and igloo-making plans, Max's outdoor plans have changed lately. He marked a prime spot for me to shovel a snow pile that would "settle and be sturdy for a snow house". He began the project, digging at the snow like a dog just finding a long lost ham bone. I stepped outside to shovel the driveway clean, only to be instructed on what had to be done next in his plan. I obliged and plowed the snow over to his pile. I let them dig at it for awhile as I finished up the end of the driveway. Then, just to be a sport, I went over and showed them a few techniques to carve it out with the shovel. At that point, they both stood up, brushed the snow off their pants and placed their hands on their hips. They turned into directors with a vision and I was the laborer. "Just, dig in there a little farther so I can actually sit in it". "That's it, and clean up that pile you just knocked down". "Hmmm, maybe you better stabilize the other side, too". "Hey MOM, you made mine fall down, get over here and fix it". "You made Max's good and mine bad, I can't fit in it." After finishing the driveway and digging as much as I felt would appease them, I tromped inside and left them to enjoy their masterpiece. No sooner had I closed the door and removed my gear, when they were at the door, herding in saying they were bored now and coming in. I guess what I'm left wondering is, what was more entertaining for them? Directing me like a puppet or making the snow house, only to abandon it for the toys in the house?