Yesterday, I wrote about how my boys were all about the climb.
This morning, I woke up to find this scattered across my island. By my island, in this case, I mean the one in my kitchen. Yes, the one where we do a large portion of our food prep. Try not to think too hard about that one.
Anyway, I had a stream-of-consciousness
morning moment, which led me to conclude that while my boys may be all about the climb, my daughter is all about the shells. I present to you the evidence of the last four days.
Exhibit A: Friday
Exhibit B: Saturday
My daughter requested another trip to the beach for the purpose of shell-collecting on Saturday, but alas for us both, it was my day to clean the walls. We are in the midst of redoing the bowels of our new house, and step one was to clean the walls of all unidentifiable substances, of which there are many. Step two will be ripping out the carpeting, which has acquired its own unique funk and is the worldâ€™s second most unattractive carpeting color (the first being the color I called â€œdung of the cow brownâ€ in our apartment we lived in after we were first married), and replacing it with the lighter of the two pieces of wood laminate floors I showed you a few weeks ago.
Anyway, the point is that I was cleaning the walls and doing general household cleaning all day, so baby-girl had no option to go to the beach that day. But she would have if she could have.
Exhibit C: Sunday
Exhibit D: Monday
Midmorning, my daughter and I packed snacks, towels and the plastic green container sheâ€™s carrying to use for shell-collecting, and headed to the beach. The items on the kitchen island were some of the pieces she collected yesterday.
So, of the last four days, she spent three of them amassing shells.
Sheâ€™s four, so these things often shift with the frequency of the tides, but I think itâ€™s safe to say that, for the moment, sheâ€™s all about the shells.