Joy led us down to the runoff pond this afternoon so she could show us the fort she had made in the bushes nearby.
I envisioned some imposing edifice . . .
. . . but it turned out to be a tiny clearing in the underbrush, where Joy had placed stones in the mud so her feet wouldn't get dirty while she crouched among the prickly branches.
Crouching gets old pretty quickly, so the kids soon switched gears and went wading in the runoff pond. They assured me that they would keep their rolled-up pants dry . . .
. . . but it's hard to stay dry when you're gleefully sloshing around a pond, and it wasn't long before the two older kids had tripped and soaked everything they were wearing.
Oh well. You're only young once, right?
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